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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865600">The Tricky Life of an Empath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityCreator/pseuds/InsanityCreator'>InsanityCreator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Star Sans Poly [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, any maybe a little feral, badass dream, dream and nightmare are tree spirity bois, error's a prick, horror's protective of his stuff, human versions, what is a dust but a miserable pile of anxiety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:41:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityCreator/pseuds/InsanityCreator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything in Dream's life seemed to be going great until he was kidnapped by the enemy. But was it really?</p><p>Being stuck with some slightly unhinged individuals actually teaches him that maybe not everyone flocks to happiness, or even prefers it. Maybe pure kindness isn't always the answer. And maybe it doesn't hurt to let himself indulge in and get to understand his more negative feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dream/Ink, Dream/Swap Sans, Ink/Swap Sans, Sans/Sans (Undertale), Star Sans Poly - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Star Sans Poly [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In which it begins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cold.</p><p>Cold.</p><p>Cold. Dream feels elevated and his wrists hurt. His eyes snap open. Dark bricks, stone, metal. He looks around with a start. There’s a minimalist cot. The floor is made of rough stone and his arms are suspended, pinned to the wall by solid metal cuffs. The moment he notices them, he starts struggling, attempting to pull his hands free. He finds he can move the rest of his body. He tries to use his legs to move out and pull the rest of his body. He then tries to squeeze his hands as small as possible in order to pull them out. No luck, his restraints are painfully tight on his wrists for a reason. He can feel his attempts to free his hands begin to cut into his wrists and he winces. The feeling of sharp metal against and digging into a fresh wound is not one he is particularly fond of.</p><p>Next he tries to summon his weapon. Magic sparks, then flickers out before it can take shape. That’s what he figured would happen, but he may as well try. A few more attempts. Nothing. Normally he would be able to feel some healing just from being in an area where positivity exists. Though Nightmare’s influence is too strong here. He’d hazard to guess these bricks weren’t always so dark. It’s very clear he must be in Nightmare’s castle. How he got here? He’s not sure.</p><p>The last thing he can remember is an unusually peaceful day. He had practiced playing with Ink, his harp matching the other’s flute. They had been trying to learn a song. Initially Dream had used the excuse that music was a good way to help Ink remember something, it wasn’t the first time they’d found, learned and played a song together. But he’s sure they both know it’s really just an excuse to be doing something together that they both enjoy. The help in memory is just a bonus.</p><p>After that, he helped Blue cook, they ate and all three of them laid down for bed. He thinks was awoken by a nightmare? Dream always has issues remembering any of his dreams, as ironic as that may be. His boyfriends helped him get back to sleep.</p><p>Then he woke up here.</p><p>Without healing he should try to not damage his hands to the point he can’t fight with them. So forcing them out of the cuffs isn’t an option. He has one more attempt to get out. With the small space he is able to run and a push off the wall behind him, he flips himself around. The cuffs dig into his hands further as he flings the rest of his body up over, feet landing on the wall above. His arms are strained but he can keep himself up. Carefully he starts trying to shift himself enough his hands can reach his boots. It takes some awkward twisting in ways no one else he knows can bend, though he manages to grasp one of his hidden knives. Carefully, while still above the cuffs, using his knees to help steady the blade from his weakened hands, he uses it to unscrew the metal plates attaching the cuff to the wall.</p><p>“Hey! Stop that!” Dream looks up, noticing that one of the walls isn’t solid stone, but rather a mesh of metal bars blocking the hall outside off instead. He sees Dust standing near a stool, holding the bars and looking angrily at him. Dream can feel astonishment and confuddlement from him as well. As well as something else… He seems genuinely impressed? And a little scared.</p><p>He’s unsure how he managed to overlook that entire wall and another monster’s presence! He should have definitely still been able to feel Dust’s feelings without seeing him there. Perhaps his ability to read people has been inhibited. And he must be a little more rattled than he thought he was. Still, he can tell how Dust feels, so that ability is not completely gone. It’s never completely gone.</p><p>Without saying anything Dream looks him straight in the eyes as he continues to unscrew each bolt. As they fall to the ground one by one Dust begins to fret more, trying to shake the bars.</p><p>“No! No, no, no, you stop that! That’s—That’s bad!! Papyrus says so! You need to stop. Just—Come back down??” He’s becoming increasingly stressed and frantic. He tries to summon an attack, throwing it at Dream. But it dissipates not long after involuntarily. He starts chewing his lip.</p><p>With the last bolt gone, the plate comes half out awkwardly. He manages to not fall and undoes the other just the same. Preparing himself for when the plate falls, he manages to fall on his back rather than his head. Not exactly what he was aiming for, but close enough.</p><p>Dust runs down the hall shouting, “Help! Help! Someone come here!” Dream counts on his limited time, coming over to the door. He searches for a lock, yet cannot find one… Is thee any other opening? There’s a slot to slide food under. The food slot has a lock, but even if he picked it and got the thing open, despite how flexible he is he wouldn’t be able to press himself down flat enough to get through there. A part of the door looks like a key hole should be there. Yet it’s not present at all.</p><p>Running can be heard from a heavy footed individual, Dusts yelling garnering some attention. Dream steps away from the bars, knife out and stance solid. He keeps his distance so they don’t have a chance to disarm him from the other side.</p><p>Dust returns in front of the cell, this time a confused and concerned Horror with him. The larger, scarred man looks into the cell, seeing Dream. “Uhhhh, how did he get a knife?”</p><p>“I don’t know! He was asleep forever so I wasn’t super looking, but I heard something and looked and he’d flipped over the cuffs!”</p><p>Horror gives his smaller teammate a look of disbelief, though will look back at Dream. “Well… I guess we never bothered to check if he had hidden weapons…? Wasn’t he sleeping when Error nabbed him, why the hell did he have a knife in bed?”</p><p>“Wait yeah, why was he wearing his regular clothes at all!” As their conversation goes off topic Dream puzzles over the bits of information he’s received. Error took him? Why? He knows sometimes he helps in the bad guys in fights, but that’s rare enough he had chalked it up to boredom. He certainly feels bored when he’s with them. Also, he thought Blue was friends with Error? Did he betray him? Was he being blackmailed? No, it seems highly unlikely someone could find some way to blackmail Error. It’s not like he bothers hiding anything to begin with. “We probably should have noticed that first. Nightmare’s going to be pissed…”</p><p>“I mean…” Horror stares Dream up and down. “…It’s not like he can get out either way? Being attached to the wall or not doesn’t change anything.”</p><p>Dust looks over, chewing his lip. “…True.”</p><p>There’s a sudden steady sound of soft static. Dream looks around. The other two don’t seem to have noticed it. “It’s not like we can exactly put him back up anyways, I mean. Do you want to go in there?”</p><p>“No thanks? He’s giving me major ‘Killer on a bad day’ vibes, I don’t want to get stabbed again.”</p><p>“Yeah, me neither. Also opening the door’s a bad idea I think…”</p><p>“What if we just wait for him to fall asleep?”</p><p>“You think he’s going to sleep now? With us here? What if he’s like Nightmare, does Nightmare ever actually sleep?”</p><p>“Well, he has to right?”</p><p>“I don’t know, have you ever seen it?”</p><p>“Well no, but I haven’t seen you sleep either, but you definitely do, what else would you be doing in your room for hours!”</p><p>Dream spots someone else watching the conversation unfold as he is. A blocky portal open to a white space with an all too familiar black, yet colourful destroyer. He sits in front of the portal on the stone floor eating popcorn while watching them. Dream realizes he’s never really seen Error outside of combat. It’s truly jarring to see him just sitting, doing something casual, seeming calm. The insane look in his eyes is not present currently. Even his glitching is far more calm.</p><p>He was confused as to why he would help kidnap him. It doesn’t seem completely out of character, even with seeing him like this. Yet he has no idea what the motive would be. And he knows Error’s friends with Blue, or something similar! He might be the only one who can freely come and go from this castle. That makes him the only person who could help him without Nightmare’s consent, or at the very least deliver a message.</p><p>Looking back to the other two, Dream finds the discussion about Nightmare’s sleeping habits still ongoing. He shifts himself to the corner of his cell near the bars while making sure they don’t see. Cautiously he tries to wave to Error to get his attention. It takes some doing, but the movement is enough to catch Error’s poor eyesight and though he squints it’s hard to mistake that bright yellow and orange blob for anyone else.</p><p>He opens his mouth to speak, though Dream makes frantic waves trying to stop him. He complies? Making use of this bit of hope in Error, he points to the two parties involved in the argument. He looks at them hard. Dream seems him look contemplative, glitches settling further for a moment. With a shrug, Dream seems his mouth start to move, though his voice comes from outside the hall, a shout sounding distant. He threw his voice?</p><p>“Hey idiot number one and idiot number two! Nightmare’s pissed and wants you both, looks like someone emptied the fridge!” his glitchy voice calls. Dust straightens up when he hears Nightmare needs him while Horror bristles when he hears the news about the fridge. A guttural growl escapes him as he rushes out of the room. Dust, not particularly wanting to see the wrath of his boss due to being late follows quickly on his heel.</p><p>Error grins smugly. The portal behind him closes as a smaller one opens somewhere red. He haphazardly throws his bag of popcorn in it. The second portal closes as he pulls himself to his feet using one hand and a few strings, coming over to Dream’s cell. Dream is stunned. He’s seen him do that voice thing before, making them think he’s on one side, only to hit from another. Though it’s certainly odd to see him using that, his portals and his strings for mundane uses rather than destruction.</p><p>“Whatdya want? …Jeez, do you have to be so bright? You look like a glowstick compared to everything else here.” he complains.</p><p>“They said you brought me here.”</p><p>Error doesn’t react to his words continuing on. “Like, it’s not even as bad almost anywhere else, but it’s a serious strain on the eyes. You have any idea how hard it is getting used to full white, then full dark? Both is an absolute nightmare!”</p><p>Ignoring the pun, Dream continues in trying to question him. “You work for Nightmare sometimes but you’re also friends with Blue? Why?”</p><p>“I mean I know ‘goodness’ and ‘light’ is your whole thing, but honestly. Couldn’t you have just gone for a cool colour like blue? You wear some blue, why couldn’t it all be blue.”</p><p>“How do you think Blue’s going to feel about me going missing?”</p><p>“….I mean just like. Literally any other colour but yellow. Red would have been better.”</p><p>Dream feels his face squish in annoyance. ..Wait, annoyance? Reacting to such emotions, that’s not like him. This place is already doing things to him, he needs to calm down. Even if Error does look amused. He takes a deep breath in… Then out. He smiles. “I’m pretty sure blue and red are just colours you wear, is that why you’re listing them? Besides, you have yellow on your coat and pants. It’s even in your eyes!”</p><p>Error looks less enthused by the return of his cheeriness? “Yeah, well that’s because I’m one of the few who can rock it, it’s good in moderation. I don’t think you know the meaning of moderation! I’d look good in anything though, I’m just such a handsome devil~”</p><p>“I do wear some black, and I can certainly try wearing darker things. Though I don’t have anything to change into and I would truly prefer not to do that. What I wear is fine And I think they’d look wrong on me. I prefer the bright colours.” Error scowls in disgust. Dream’s smile widened, an idea brewing. His questioning won’t work and any serious conversation is being diverted and ignored. Clearly he has to engage Error in what he’s currently engaged with instead.</p><p>“But you did get me in here. If you help me get out, I’ll owe you enough to have a costume change.” Sure, the black he does wear is just to offset some of his other colours, but he would be willing to sacrifice some of then to get out and not risk his friends attempting to break in. Besides the faster he gets out, the more he can save them from too much worry.</p><p>To his joy, Error actually look contemplative! “I mean. I don’t really want to break my deal with Nightmare.”</p><p>A deal, huh? He can work with that. “Then just let me out of this cell? And keep me from being put back in. All you have to do is let me freely roam the castle. Does that break your deal?”</p><p>“…Huh! I guess not. Stupid octopus didn’t specify where to keep you.”</p><p>He smiles brightly, which Error cringes further at, feelings of disgust rolling off of him. Dream will soften his expression to just a pleasant smile. That seems to soothe Error’s contempt. He takes note of that. “Alright. You let me roam around here freely and I’ll change my outfit. Deal?”</p><p>Error glitches as he thinks. His eyes glance to one side… Then the other. He stares at the wall, shaking his head, before giving a relenting expression. He sighs. “Fine.” He says bitterly to the wall. “But it’s your fault if this becomes a problem!”</p><p>He looks back at Dream with a grin. “I get to pick your outfit and you’ve got yourself a deal.”</p><p>Though Dream doesn’t quite like his clothes being chosen for him, especially by one of his enemies, he imagines he’ll still end up getting at least a coat if Error’s own wardrobe choices are anything to go by. “Okay but only if I get to keep my cape and it’s something I can still fight in.” Sure it’s less a cape now and more a hood, but it has sentimental value. He isn’t giving it up.</p><p>Error thinks it over…. Then relents. “I guess that’s fine. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Dream controls his expression from showing his appreciation he managed to reason with the destroyer, holding out his hand. Error cringes away. Oh yeah… He retracts his hand, looking sheepish.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Error reaches out, strings shooting and wrapping around the metal bars on the door. Unlike Dust’s magic, his strings aren’t dissipated as they go through, into the cell. With a sharp tug its hinges and locks creak before giving way. The door flies across the hall, crashing into the opposite, empty cells.</p><p>Dream had been expecting just a portal inside and out, having a feeling Error’s magic would be able to go through whatever antimagic the cell has. He was proven correct, despite the louder, more destructive route that was taken. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised though.</p><p>He walks out ruined doorway, instantly feeling like he can breathe once out. He slides his knife back into his shoe. Dust hadn’t seen where he pulled it from so he could still make use of hiding it in there. Error made jazz hands at him. “Ta-da, enjoy your new freedom! I’m going to find you something a hundred times better than what you’re wearing right now so like, have fun and stuff until I come back.” And with that he opens his hand beside him, a portal opening. He steps through, disappearing.</p><p>Dream was left in silence… Alright. He’s free and he should probably get out of this area. First he should check if anyone else is being kept in these cells… He makes his way down the hall checking both sides. He knows he should hurry in case Nightmare’s goons realized they’d been tricked and come back. And yet as he rushes forward and back through the hall, he finds it to be completely empty. Sure some of the rooms are set up in a way it looks like someone was once in them, but not any longer. Odd… Though he supposes he hadn’t heard of anyone going missing so perhaps it’s to be expected. What’s the point of having a large dungeon if no one’s in it? Wouldn’t one or two cells suffice?</p><p>Starting to hear a stream of curses from someone, as well as light footsteps running to the hall, Dream tenses and steadies his pose, getting ready for a fight. Dust turns a corner only to freeze, coming to a halt as he stares wide eyed at Dream. He opens and closes his mouth a few times like a suffocating fish, as if struggling to find the proper words.</p><p>Dream only summons his staff, pointing it at the murderer. “Do you think you can fight me on your own?” He doesn’t normally default to the route of intimidation, but he knows there’s no reason in trying to diplomatic route with this bunch. If intimidation was how his brother corralled them, he would just have to follow his lead. As much as he disliked the idea of doing anything like him anymore.</p><p>Feelings of doubt, fear and confusion flicker throughout Dust. He looks over his shoulder, muttering something. He can feel the conflict rising in him before he slowly, hesitantly raises his hand for magic.</p><p>“You know you won’t win. Want to save us both the trouble and get in the cell? It’ll be easier to sell to Nightmare you at least tried to stop me.”</p><p>“Sell and cell, nice one.” Dust comments before pausing, looking contemplative. He’s usually on a team of five, sometimes five. He usually isn’t alone fighting one person from the Stars and that person is never Dream. His boss is stronger than all of them, and yet Dream is the one who clashes with him head on, proving to be an equal. He doesn’t want to have that power directed at him, even if he highly doubts the dreamer would actually kill him.</p><p>The lazy option does sound nice though… There’s no EXP to gain from fighting someone he can’t even kill. With some hesitation he lowers his head, glaring at Dream. “Make it convincing.”</p><p>Dream understands his words. He doesn’t particularly like the idea of hurting someone who isn’t fighting back… But the resolve Dust is putting on this course of action being the safest will just have to satiate that awful twisted feeling in his gut. He nods, coming over. He hits Dust hard in the side with his staff to smack him in the direction of the door. He kicks his legs out from under him so he falls on the rough ground in the cell before bashing him hard in the head with his staff. He hears a crack.</p><p>Tears sting the corners of his eyes as he’s hit with a wave of regret and guilt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he spouts out, dropping his tough act. Dust looks up at him in utter confusion before a laugh rips its way out of him. He gives Dream an odd look.</p><p>“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” He says, pushing himself up and turning around. He sits down on the floor in the center of the cell. “Don’t take too long doing whatever the fuck you’re doing, I’d prefer to be ‘rescued’ soon. You absolute lunatic.”</p><p>Dream ignores the jab at his sanity, still feeling incredibly guilty. Sure Dust is one of his enemies but… He hopes it’ll be fine. Maybe he can make it up to him in the next fight, or if he truly is stuck here for a time maybe he can still make it up to him in a different way? Here’s hoping he manages to achieve the former. He sets up a golden barrier just outside the antimagic area of the cell to keep Dust in.</p><p>With that, he’ll change his staff into his bow, summoning an arrow. He heads down the hall, exiting the cell block entirely. The halls are quiet… Far enough. Having a whole castle to only five people, it makes sense it’d be harder for him to cross paths with the others just by exiting. Yet, he knows he’ll need to. He can’t leave on his own and if his brother finds out he got out, he’ll confront him. He’ll likely call his minions to his aid, so Dream’s first order of business is taking them out one by one. Nightmare can easily be felt far away, where the castle gets it’s darkest. It’s hard to pinpoint him exactly, but as long as he doesn’t go over there, he’s sure it’ll be fine. Now he just has to walk around until he starts to feel new thing, then hone in on that. What did Error distract them with? The fridge? He should try to find the kitchen first then, Horror is probably still over there.</p><p>Nodding to himself, he heads off in the direction he saw them run before.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In which Dream is badass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting Horror into the cell isn’t hard. The fridge does indeed seem to be empty, and he’s lashing out at anyone who gets too close. Dream wonders if that’s Error’s doing. He kites Horror over to the cell block before hitting him over his already damaged head, knocking him out and tossing him in with Dust. Killer proves to be more of a challenge, actually putting up a decent fight. He actually manages to get through a bit, cutting parts of Dream’s arms. However, Dream’s fought with him and has used knives long enough to know a thing or two about them. As such, he does fend him off, disarming, then restraining him before he can reach into his coat for yet another blade. His staff changes shape through light into bindings for his hands.</p><p>“What even is you’re weapon??” he asks on the way there, giving up struggling at this point, having found it to not work. Dream doesn’t bother answering him. When he gets to the cell, he tosses him in too. Horror seems to be awake now, sitting on the cot, grumbling to himself. Dust waves to Killer as he also gets trapped. Killer gives them a baffled look, which he then turns on Dream.</p><p>Dream finds the waves of confusion rolling off of him amusing, though he doesn’t stay. There’s just one more he has to find and detain before he can go after Nightmare. It suddenly crosses his mind; he was putting them in there so Nightmare couldn’t summon them. But what if the antimagic zone was made in a way he is still able to use magic around it?  He decides to simply hope that isn’t the case and that this isn’t a massive waste of time. Though even if it is, at least they can’t put him back due to his deal with Error.</p><p>As he walks through the halls, the only warning he has is the sound of boots scuffing against the stone floor with a leap. He jumps to the side as a bright red knife strikes in an arch, hitting and cracking the ground where he once stood. Dream comes face to face with Cross. A monster who, like the others, has put a lot more suffering into the multiverse. He may not be insane like the others, but that doesn’t change all he’s done while being the newest member of their team. His expression is blank, though Dream can feel anxiety in him. It’s not unusual; frustration and anxiety seem to be a constant for him.</p><p>“You’re not supposed to be out here.” He pulls his knife out of the ground, turning to face Dream, stance becoming sturdy. Dream pulls his bow in two, light shifting it into blades, connected by a golden strand.</p><p>“I’m not supposed to be here at all depending on who you ask.”</p><p>Dream’s seen Cross fight. He knows some of his more dangerous abilities won’t be able to work here, mostly the possession and code altering stuff. He wouldn’t dare destroy any part of Nightmare’s castle unless more than just himself were at risk, and he doesn’t know about the others. That and it being a one on one fight doesn’t leave any room for someone he can puppet to fight for him. Cross has certainly seen him fight as well, though unfortunately for him, he still has all the abilities he brings to fights. He’s used to doing battle in more negative areas; the location only inhibiting his ability to teleport and clearly sense others.</p><p>They both stand, tense, waiting for the other to make a move. Dream keeps his gaze focused only on Cross. He does the same. Steady breathing, pose and stance allowing for quick movement in any direction… Yet Dream has yet another unfair advantage and he knows it. Cross’ emotions go from tense, to contemplative. He’s thinking. All he has to do is wait for him to get too caught up in his thoughts, then… </p><p>Strike! Dream rushes forward with a backhanded slashing motion being matched with a forward one from his other blade. Both hit, though he brings his sword up fast enough to block most of the damage. Still the sudden attack while he became momentarily distracted causes him to stumble. Dream tries to use this to kick his feet out from under him. It works but Cross only uses the movement to gracefully tumble to the side, back on his feet. He tries to stab Dream with his sword, but Dream catches the blade with both of his own, twisting it out of the other’s hand. It dissipates only for another to appear, which Cross immediately uses to slash in the momentary confusion.</p><p>The blade catches his arm. He flinches, Cross next aiming for his head. He jumps away, managing to mostly avoid the blade, though he still feels a cold stink on his cheek and ear. This is despite his attempts to keep said ear tucked against the side of his face while fighting. Still, he won’t hesitate further, dashing forward while lower to the ground. He uses his height against Cross’ to strike him from below, getting his blades in deep and tearing them across his stomach. Cross hunches over as he immediately starts bleeding profusely from the terrible injury, a guttural sound coming from the back of his throat in anger. He holds the wound with one hand as he tries to clumsily dash forward to stab Dream with the other. Dream easily moves to the side and turns his blades into a staff and hits Cross hard on the head as he goes past. Cross slumps, dazed. Dream straightens himself and hits him more solidly, again. Finally, his blade disappears and he falls to the floor.</p><p>After a few moments of heavy breathing and watching to make sure he’s really out, Dream dissipates his own weapons and quickly comes down to the ground.</p><p>That wound in his stomach is deep. If his arm wasn’t there, Dream worries his entrails would be spilling out. He also seems to have cut through several of them. Indigo blood stains front of his white and black uniform – Dream panics - he doesn’t want to kill the guy!</p><p>His hands light up with gold healing magic for a moment, trying to stop the bleeding, holding Cross’ stomach tightly for him. It starts to work, only for the guard to stir. Already? He’s either hard to put down or just ridiculously stubborn. He continues anyways, figuring there’s no way he’ll get up again from that.</p><p>He is very quickly proven wrong as a fist immediately swings for his face, hitting him hard in the nose. Dream falls back, sitting as he holds his face. He looks Cross in the eyes, glare meeting glare. Feelings of tension, distrust… Some embarrassment? Fine. He takes a breath in… Then out. He tries to wipe the blood off his face, only succeeding in smearing it further. “I am just trying to heal you.” He stops himself from adding ‘if I wasn’t doing that you would be dead’, ‘calm down’ or ‘I am unarmed’ due to the first one sounding threatening, the second one being ineffective in any circumstance generally while the last one is a blatant lie.</p><p>With or without the accidental threat, Cross doesn’t take what he’s saying, swatting his hand away and trying to stumble back up to his feet. Dream feels his emotions dull for a moment of confusion as he stumbles and falls back down with a hiss of pain. Perhaps he’s still light headed, which is to be expected.</p><p>“Look, I just want to help. You’re going to die if you keep this up.” Dream tries, more sternly.</p><p>“..fuck… ..you…” Cross says between shallow, uneven breaths.</p><p>Dream feels his face scrunch again. He doesn’t fight it this time. None of this bunch seem to listen to reason, do they? And trying to be soft and kind is getting him nowhere. It’s time for aggressive kindness. “If you don’t stay still so I can fix you, so help me, I will bop you over the head again for your own health and safety.”</p><p>Cross looks surprised and feels shocked. Dream assumes it’s due to finally letting himself slip some. Showing this sort of thing in front of another person is unlike him, he really is slipping with this environment. Still. It felt surprisingly good to get out part of his frustrations. Dream uses the confusion to lean forward enough to grab ahold of his uniform with one hand. Cross immediately tries to pull away, but Dream doesn’t let him, putting his other hand over his stomach again, healing magic glowing and trying to fix the wound. Despite the help, Cross continues to try to pull away, next trying to slap Dream’s hand away, then trying to punch him again. Dream simply moves out of the way and huff. “Stop that, you’re going to make me mess up, do you really want an awful scar?” The attempts to harm Dream don’t end, despite his weakened strength. </p><p>It’s when he’s able to summon his sword again and manages to stab a surprised Dream in the side that he finally gives up. “Kay, message received. No more mister nice Dream.” He lets go and stands, summoning his staff. He hits Cross hard in the head again, knocking him out with less resistance this time. He can’t do this while he’s conscious, fine, he’s too stubborn to let him help, fine! Stubbornness or distrust, maybe both, it doesn’t matter, he’s out again. He’ll appreciate it later. Or maybe not. Either way, Dream can’t just let him die for simply trying to do what his brother wants. He knows about the type of manipulation and hurt that generally involves.</p><p>The healing is continued, first quickly on himself, a stab to the torso, but not hitting anything vital, he’ll live. Then to Cross. He’s still bleeding, but not as badly… He figures he could probably take him to the cells like this?</p><p>Cross is far bigger than him, and certainly more bulky with all those layers of clothing. Picking him up is an issue and it’s quite awkward to get a proper grip on him, but once he’s up it’s fine. Keeping him up relies on his own strength. The cape becomes annoying as he tries not to trip on it, but he eventually finds he can just spin the guy around to wrap him up in it like a burrito. It even helps the bleeding a bit! Though, he’ll certainly have some laundry to do later with all that indigo staining white.</p><p>He stops outside of the cell. the clanking sound of Killer trying to slash and stab his way through his barrier with a new knife was clear to hear from outside the hall. Horror, seeing Dream come in carrying Cross huffs a laugh. “Here comes the bride.” Dream chooses to ignore both of them. He sets Cross down to lean his back against his barrier, keeping him propped up sitting. He begins healing him yet again.</p><p>“Holy shit…” Killer sounds, stopping his attack on the barrier to watch the two of them.</p><p>Horror gets to his feet with a grunt, trudging over. He looks down at Cross, most notably the major damage, though also the part of his head where his white hair is clumping together with blood. “Hm.”</p><p>“Is he dead?” Dust doesn’t bother to get up, asking from his spot on the floor.</p><p>Dream pouts at them. “Of course not? Also mind your business.” Why would he have bothered to bring him all the way back over here if he was dead? Furthermore, why bother heal him then?</p><p>Cross begins to stir as the stomach wound is fixed. His eyes groggily open. “wh…” Dream takes this as his sign that he’s good enough now and it’s time to toss him in the cell.</p><p>Quite literally toss him; he hoists Cross up by the front of his clothes as he stands, walks over to the front of the cell and doesn’t even bother to tell Killer to get out of the way, seeing him try to stand his ground. Dream shoves him through the barrier and empty doorway into Killer, causing the two to fall over. Horror steps back from their side as to not be caught up in that, laughing at them.</p><p>It’s in the pushing motion Dream notices his dirtied hands. He looks at them, indigo blood covering them, his arms and chest, his own still staining and smudged around his wrists and hands where he wiped his face. The occasional cut, the occasional bruise. Here he is worrying about another person’s laundry when he will have his own. It’s unfortunate he’s missing his gloves. They would make this much easier to clean off.</p><p>He looks up. Amusement and curiousity off Horror, strong annoyance off Killer, fascination and humour from Dust and utter confusion from Cross. Actually, the latter stares at him, gaze cold and blank, he can sense bits of confusion and contemplation. Interesting, though mostly understandable.</p><p>“Where’s the closest place to wash up?” Dream decides to ask.</p><p>And just like that, bewilderment and hysterics take over in one form or another. Horror and Killer laugh at him, Dust rolls his eyes and Cross quirks a brow, even more confused now than he was previously.</p><p>Dream sighs, smiling a bit sheepishly. “It’s a genuine question.”</p><p>“Yeah? And what will you give us?” Killer asks, shoving Cross off himself.</p><p>“Feheh, Mr. ‘I-have-a-little-blood-on-me’ over here! Do you need a full shower? Is Cross that dirty?” Horror jeers.</p><p>“Should we sanitize Cross your majesty?”</p><p>“Don’t fucking sanitize me—“</p><p>“Take a joke, checkers!”</p><p>With a shake of his head, Dream simply adjusts his circlet. “You know what? I believe I can find it myself.” He heads towards the door. What was he thinking honestly? Is he so unused to dealing with darker individuals he’ll give them such easy things to tease him over? He shouldn’t have expected them to answer, though to be honest, he never truly did. They may not be the best of people, but it’s still hard to see anyone so tense. Maybe he just wanted to give them something to laugh over, break that tension. Who knows.</p><p>He’s stopped by shouting as he tries to go through the door. “Wait, wait, wait! Don’t wash up, just go see boss like that! I’ll be hilarious, you look like you just massacred Cross!”</p><p>Dream does hesitate… He looks back at Killer who’s got a mischievous grin on his face. “I am most certainly not doing that.”</p><p>Dust laughs. Killer waves his hands. “Nonono, think about it! I mean, one it’ll be hilarious. But mostly here’s some leverage for you—If he actually believes you like, killed one of us then maybe you can use that as leverage!”</p><p>Turning to him fully, Dream gives him an utterly incredulous look. Everyone else in the cell also gives Killer a look.</p><p>“Don’t give him a way to escape, I’m going to be in so much trouble later!” Dust pipes up. Killer just looks at him.</p><p>“No listen! If he thinks we might be dead, then maybe he’ll let us off easy!” Suddenly Dream feels bits of understanding blooming in them all. He wonders if perhaps some of that is his, even if he doesn’t like the plan.</p><p>“That’s assuming he cares. Besides, I highly doubt my brother would ever believe I actually killed any of you.”</p><p>“How do you know that for sure? He’s definitely changed over the years and if this whole goddamn afternoon wasn’t enough, it feels like none of us knew you had this in you.”</p><p>“Yeah you did like, trap us all and almost kill Cross, what the actual hell, creampuff?” Horror adds. Dream feels sheepishness creep up again, and knows it can only be coming from himself.</p><p>“Exactly! Maybe he’ll think you’ve changed too! Because you’re sure as hell not going to be able to beat him.”</p><p>Dream opens his mouth in protest.. Then stops. He looks down, hand on his chin. He regrets the gesture immediately as not only does he end up staining his face more, he hears some laughing over how he’s actually started to consider it. He knows it’s true though, even without help, this is his brother’s domain. They’ve fought in negative timelines before but nothing like this, where his brother’s at full power and he’s so weakened. It’s unlikely he’ll win without some sort of bargaining chip. He reaches a conclusion and leaves without an answer. Even if he gets caught in his bluff, at least he can blame Killer? That’s what he’s going to tell himself anyways. The mix of hope coming from behind him is the conviction he needs for him to feel okay laying the blame on someone else.</p><p>Finding Nightmare is easy. He just walks towards the darkest, most negative part of the castle. He strengthens his aura from its normal, passive amount, in hopes of making himself radiate more in this dark place from Nightmare’s perspective. It works better than he could have hoped as very quickly a shadow appears and solidifies near him into an all too familiar, dark creature. He looks and feels incredibly angry.</p><p>“How did you…” His initially booming voice trails off as he notices the blood covering Dream. His eyes become their normal shape with a simple greenish-blueish eye. He examines it before turning his gaze back up at Dream, snarling.</p><p>Dream gives a sheepish smile. “Yeahh. Sorry about the mess, Cross gave me the most trouble. He’s very persistent!”</p><p>Nightmare glares at him… Before his eye widens infinitesimally. Dream has trouble gauging his feelings but from his reaction he likely either tried to call someone or check where they are. Seeing as they’re all in the cell, no matter which he did it could prove the antimagic zone also affects him. That’s a relief for Dream! And of far more concern to Nightmare.</p><p>“Look. I don’t know why you got Error to bring me here. I was sure you just wanted me dead, not captured. So it must be for a reason, yeah? Can’t you just… Tell me?”</p><p>Nightmare’s grin hardens. Dream feels any slight tells of his uncertainty turn to blatant fury, though the concern remains the same. “I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re the one who’s stuck here. You need help leaving. You have no place to barter.”</p><p>“But I do. You don’t know where any of them are, and you’re certainly not getting me back in a cell. If I’m here, you don’t want me dead right now, which means your options are to either let me go have me fighting you the entire time.” He firmly stands his ground, figuratively and literally. Nightmare glares at him.</p><p>“They’re not dead, I’d have felt it. And you can’t leave. So they must be somewhere around the castle.”</p><p>“How do you know you’d have felt it if you can’t feel them now?”</p><p>Nightmare hesitates, mouth opening, though no sound coming out. Dream feels immediately bad for using something it seems his brother finally cares about as a bargaining chip. Isn’t that what he wanted? Him to finally get friends and talk to people?</p><p>He sighs, relenting, unable to let his brother feel such worry. Is seems they were right. He does seem to care, at least somewhat. “They aren’t dead. I made sure no one would die. But I took them out once, I’ll do it again. Let me go.”</p><p>The admittance does have Nightmare relax a bit. “You’re soft.” His gaze hardened again. “I would hazard to guess you took them out one by one, correct?”</p><p>Dream doesn’t let any readable emotion come over his expression. Nevertheless, Nightmare’s empathic abilities don’t seem hindered here at all and he sneers. “You did. You know you wouldn’t be able to handle them together. And you know far, far more clearly that you wouldn’t be able to handle them and me. Why, if you fight me now you’ll just lose. Resisting or not, more precautions can always be taken in your imprisonment.”</p><p>“Yeah about that!” Both Nightmare and Dream look over quickly at the intruder. The soft static has returned as Error steps out of a portal. He throws a folded stack of clothes at Dream, who barely catches them, getting most of it to the face. Then he looks to Nightmare. “Dream’s not going back in a cell.”</p><p>Nightmare’s tendrils splay, poised over him as he looks enraged. “What!? We had a deal, you said you would—“</p><p>“You said to keep him ‘here’. But you didn’t really specify where here soooo. Also I’m giving him a costume change, you’ll thank me later he’s like a beacon in here, it’s awful.“</p><p>Despite his awkward timing, Dream does appreciate that conversation being derailed in particular. The thought of being trapped here again, in this universe, their universe… It makes his skin crawl. He tries not to get the blood straining his current outfit onto the new one Error brought for him.</p><p>“This is… Inconvenient.” Nightmare mutters. “I’m still not letting you leave though.”</p><p>Dream groans. “So what, we’re just going to fight constantly in here? I just have to set up a base of operations just kick your asses again and again?”</p><p>Error’s eyes light up. “Oooo, glowstick can swear! I’m a genius, I picked the right show.”</p><p>Ignoring the ‘show’ comment, Nightmare will respond, “We both know you won’t hold out that long.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you aren’t killing me for some reason, and you won’t let me leave. So I can be a thorn in your side for as long as it takes my friends to find me.”</p><p>Nightmare frowns. A hand goes to his face as he looks away, thoughtfully. At a crunching sound, Dream looks over to see Error has retrieved his popcorn. Fantastic… Does he have to do that on this side of the portal? Surely he could just watch in his own space without being so intrusive.</p><p>“I believe a truce is necessary.” Dream’s gaze snaps back to Nightmare, both looking each other in the eyes, perfectly level. “You can roam this section of the castle freely. However, you cannot attack any of us. In return, I will keep them from attacking you. Self-defense is permitted.”</p><p>Dream’s eyes narrow. “Make it this whole universe and I’ll let go that you had me kidnapped.” He knows he wouldn’t wander off too far anyways as when Ink and Blue do break in to find him, which he doesn’t doubt they will, they’re more likely to search the castle. Still, being kept inside to just one section sounds absolutely awful.</p><p>“…You are telling me where they are. But fine. Deal?” Nightmare holds out a hand.</p><p>There’s only a few moments of hesitation before Dream meets him halfway, firmly shaking his hand. “Deal.”</p><p>“You’re both so extra.”</p><p>Nightmare’s tendrils flair up again as he turns on Error. “Get out! Do you not have literally anything else to do?”</p><p>Error stops to think with a hum. He looks over at a wall. He listens… Then hums again with a nod. “Huh.” He looks back at Nightmare. “I guess I do. Kay, I’ll be back though, this makes great reality TV.”</p><p>“If you’re going to watch, just watch through your portals, don’t come over here!”</p><p>“Yeah but then the audience interaction sucks.” He turns to Dream, ignoring the fuming negative overlord in front of him, despite Nightmare’s hands twitching like he’s restraining the strong urge to choke him out. Error points at Dream. “The next time I look over here you better have fulfilled your end of the deal!”</p><p>Dream sighs… Then tries to smile again, even if it looks sheepish and awkward. “Alright. Take care. And tell Blue I’m alright if you can, I know he’ll fret.”</p><p>“Ehh, no promises.” Without bothering to stay for anything more he just steps back through his portal and waves it away.</p><p>Looking over at his brother, he sees he’s started pacing in an attempt to let off steam. Dream just starts walking away. “The cell I was in behind a barrier,” he informs simply as he walks. He feels his brother stare after him before storming off in that direction.</p><p>Alright. Time to find somewhere more discrete to change.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finding a balance between Dream being cool and also a dumbass is hard. The justification for him being powerful is there, yet it still feels wrong letting him win so many fights. Even if it makes sense.</p><p>Fortunately, it's unlikely he'll win this much again for a long time.</p><p>An image for this chapter~: https://insanitycreator.tumblr.com/post/621419180555665408/so-ive-been-like-planning-out-a-fic-thing-and</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In which no one trusts anyone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The long coat he’d been expecting honestly. Even the flannel shirt is fair enough. And the fact that aside from colour nothing really matches? Fair enough, neither does Error’s own clothing. What he wasn’t expecting is all the yellow. There’s still black, sure, but wasn’t that what he was complaining about? Sure it wasn’t as bright but still.</p><p>Actually, only really the outside of the coat’s black, his boots and sweat pants are blue. Another thing he finds weird honestly! He’s always seen Error wear baggy clothes and loose, open shoes, all worn. He hadn’t thought he’d get almost new, mostly tight clothing? He supposes he had specified he wanted something he could fight in. Maybe he should have asked for something cooler as well? A black coat, no matter how light, matched with flannel is bound to get hot if he tries to fight or going anywhere that isn’t this unnaturally cold castle. Though, if he wanted to keep his deal and remain out here he would have to deal with it. For now at least.</p><p>He suddenly feels a strong annoyance from the cell block, and a tug on his magic. He hasn’t felt that in, what feels like years… Though it’s likely been far, far longer. The feeling still gives him an automatic sense of urgency as he hurries in its direction. He jogs into the hall. Shoot where was it, he can’t get lost now! Left, right… Through this room—Wait was it this door or..? No, no, this way! He’s got it. He slides into the cell block.</p><p>Nightmare is staring directly at him, looking less than thrilled. Everyone’s on their feet again and looking at him actually. The barrier is still up…</p><p>Dream waves it away. “I sort of assumed you had a way to remove that if it was in your own castle..?” he tries to explain himself, smiling apologetically.</p><p>Nightmare scoffs. “Evidently not.” Dream isn’t sure if the frustration is coming from the fact he couldn’t or the fact he had to ask for help. He’d hazard to guess it’s a mix of both.</p><p>Killer and Dust both try to go through the exit immediately, both becoming stuck and unable to go further forward. Neither try to back up and continue trying to squeeze past. Horror laughs while Cross looks annoyed and starts trying to push them both out. Nightmare’s frustration dips into impatience. He grabs the metal on either side of the doorframe with his tendrils and strains, bending and denting the metal to create more room, causing all three to fall through. Dream isn’t sure whether he should be surprised by how ridiculous they can be, or scared of how strong his brother is here. It’s no wonder they obey his every order if this is what they normally see displayed so casually.</p><p>“Dust, you were supposed to watch him, you’re in charge of cleaning up this mess. Cross there’s blood fucking everywhere, I’m leaving that to you to clean up.”</p><p>Both immediately look less thrilled and Dust looks over his shoulder at something invisible. That isn’t entirely fair. Dream feels that’s his fault. If he hadn’t escaped they’d be fine and they didn’t stand a chance one on one with him. But he also knows he doesn’t want to have to clean up.</p><p>…An idea hits him as to how he can make it up to the two of them.</p><p>“I mean, Killer was the one who told me to scare you with the blood, so.” He tries to add the fact casually. He failed at doing that, but still the comment gained Nightmare’s attention as his eye flicks over to Killer, face remaining perfectly stoic as it has the entire time.</p><p>Killer freezes up, grin fixed to his face as he starts sweating. Dust and Cross give a sigh of relief while Horror’s target of laughing at has changed. “Oh. Did he now?”</p><p>Nightmare glares at him, allowing silence to take over with his expression. It achieves the desired effect, Dream can clearly feel Killer’s beginnings of regret, as well as how intimidated he is.</p><p>“…Cross, Dust. Feel free to do whatever you wish for your afternoon. Killer… I expect this cell to be replaced and the halls to be blood free by this morning.” Coldly, he turns and walks away without further word. Immediately the teasing has begun, Killer hanging his head as the other guys jokingly bully him. Dream doesn’t stick around, only waiting long enough for his brother to be gone before leaving himself.</p><p>Laundry located. He thought he remembered where it was and he found that to be correct. He’s gone over it once or twice while sneaking through the vents. Even if he’s gotten the hang of the vent layout, that doesn’t translate to him understanding the rooms. Perhaps he can try to use it to keep from getting lost, but the walls, halls and doors don’t exactly align the vents completely.</p><p>He exits the room and briefly feels a presence nearby as a door clicks closed. ..Alright then. Would it be weird if he walked over there to check it out? Probably. He’ll continue his mission.</p><p>Hall with doors on either side…  He heads down completely, ignoring them all. It ends in a more spacious room. There seem to be several couches, a coffee table and a TV. He shouldn’t be surprised they have one, though he is every time he sees technology around here. Obviously they have these sorts of things, but he supposes he never really thought about it. Picturing a big evil castle and mainly seeing the cells in the past leaves his imagination to make the rest. Even the vents were weird for him the first time.</p><p>The TV is rather large actually, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it was stolen rather that purchased. That’s probably the story with most everything in here. Anyways, navigating wise, he believes this room to be fairly close to the kitchen. Isn’t there a dining area in the way or something?</p><p>He begins to head to different door, only to feel that emotional presence again. He looks back in time to see a grey hood duck behind a couch. “…Dust?” he questions. That’s the only one it could be, right? Every other member of their team seems to be far less stealthy, and none of them weird a jacket with a grey hood. He finds himself correct as mismatched eyes peer out at him.</p><p>“…Why’d ya have to be like Nightmare? Can’t follow you at all.”</p><p>Dream chooses to ignore being compared to Nightmare. That annoyance is coming off of Dust. He gives a confused smile. “Why are you following me in the first place?”</p><p>Dust’s expression turns more stressed. “…Uh.” He goes completely silent.</p><p>That doesn’t help. Is it because he’s quite foreign and a potential threat? Nightmare must have told them right away not to attack him in order to keep his side of the agreement. Simple curiosity perhaps?</p><p>“Why did you help me?” Ah, he was completely wrong in all his guesses. How is it so much harder to predict this bunch? Perhaps their minds just work different than he’s used to. That would make quite a bit of sense, though even if he knows that it doesn’t exactly help him.</p><p>“Uh… Well, I did sort of beat you up.”</p><p>Dust snorts. “I asked you to. You can’t possibly be that soft.”</p><p>“Well, sorry to disappoint.” Dream shrugs. Dust seems to sink in on himself, hiding behind the sofa again. He seems tense and conflicted. Figuring his presence is making that worse, Dream will leave the room. He enters the hall, though doesn’t go through the door to the kitchen. He instead wanders, peaking in through doors. He hopes Dust will be okay. If he has anything to talk about, hopefully he’ll just find him again.</p><p>A closet, a dusty room, more halls. He searches and discovers many of the castle rooms are actually left completely unused. Though there are a few furnished ones. A large library is what he finds first, though he can only see it through its glass doors. Inside, Nightmare sits on one of the soft chairs, holding a book with a lamp lit next to him. He looks up only to glare at Dream. He most certainly isn’t going in there. At least not right now.</p><p>He continues to search. He notices the moon shining in through a few windows. It’s changed its position… How much time has passed? He’s a little annoyed he isn’t sure. How has he walked and explored so much, yet found so little? He found an ornate ballroom, a throne room, a horrifyingly medieval torture chamber that thankfully doesn’t look like it’s ever had any use or maintenance, and some other generic castle rooms. But the most modern things he’s seen are the TV and refrigerator. Maybe the laundry machines but it didn’t seem as new. He figures Nightmare must really just be going hard on the old timey castle aesthetic.</p><p>At least that’s what he was thinking until he entered a large room with a rough floor. An area curtained off, lights above and below the tiled part of the room, the whole thing with some far more modern decorations. Dream is completely dumbstruck.</p><p>They have a fucking pool?</p><p>He hears laughing and feels amusement, looking in its direction. Killer sits at the edge, his feet dipped in the water. His shoes and socks sit near him though out of the way. He’s leaning forward, clutching his chest. “Oh my stars, I wish you could see the face you made! Ha, what? Never seen a pool?”</p><p>Dream clamps his mouth shut, having only just realized it was ajar. “I have certainly seen a pool I just didn’t think for a moment you all actually had one! Honestly, why would I?? Also, weren’t you supposed to be cleaning up?”</p><p>Killer waves his hand. “Already done. And I mean. Fair point, but consider, you still looked hilarious.” He leans back, looking up and around himself. “It is pretty awesome, and would probably be loads of fun. But like, no one actually uses it as a pool.”</p><p>“What in the world could you possibly use it for? You have a functioning bathroom.”</p><p>Killer laughs in a doting sort of way which Dream finds he immediately dislikes, puffing his cheeks out. Maybe not the best move in hindsight since he doesn’t want to be treated as a child. What is with this lack of facial and emotional control? He needs to get more practice while in this setting. Clearly it’s been getting to him, he hasn’t had this much issue with slipping for a long, long time.</p><p>“We actually have two bathrooms, but nah that’s not it. Wanna come over and find out?”</p><p>Indignation turns to suspicion. Could this be a trap? He knows the others have must been instructed not to attack him, but if he’s learned anything from leaving Ink and Blue alone in a house for too long it’s that pranks are a whole different type of war. He scans the areas for any hint of a trap. He finds this only makes Killer laugh more at him. Dream squints in return. “I would rather not.”</p><p>“Ha! You’re smart. I’ll tell ya for free, how about that? We basically just end up using this room as another sparring ground. For more difficult terrain and stuff! Nightmare doesn’t care if we break stuff in here since he never uses it either.”</p><p>Dream is surprised by the information, though one thing stands out to him. “Why does he have a pool if he never uses it?”</p><p>Killer shrugs. “Have you seen how extra he is? I dunno, maybe it came with the castle.”</p><p>“I thought he built the castle. Or at least had it built for him.”</p><p>“Maybe he just looked at stuff fancy places and castles have, then decided to have all of it? I dunno, like I told you, he’s extra.”</p><p>Dream hums. He supposes that makes sense… The dramatic villain flair and presence has always been there, even as the others seem fairly casual, excluding Cross. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised? He’ll slowly nod.</p><p>“Awesome, now you know. So?”</p><p>Dream looks at him. “So… What?”</p><p>“Wanna spar with me?”</p><p>“What?” Dream finds himself feeling utterly incredulous. “Sparring would just let you figure out how I fight and improve, being someone who has to fight you all regularly, that seems entirely like a bad idea.”</p><p>Killer laughs at the sudden and immediate denial. He gets up, shaking his legs off from the pool water. “Aww, come on. You know, technically you would get the exact same thing, right? Figure out how I fight. Who knows. Maybe you could learn a thing or two.”</p><p>“I don’t really think so…” He won’t deny he’s gotten rusty. Though that doesn’t quite matter. He still remembered enough to beat Killer once.</p><p>…Though. He supposes even if they sparred and Killer got better, it would hone his own skills into being as sharp as they once were. And perhaps he’d even learn something new. Killer’s style of using knives is far more aggressive than his own. It’d be interesting to compare.</p><p>“You know what? Fine actually.” Killer looks taken off guard with the sudden agreement without him saying anything else. Immediately his grin widens though.</p><p>“Alright! The softy has some balls!”</p><p>Dream feels his face squish again reflexively at the remark making Killer laugh. “I believe I would already have proven I have these metaphorical balls when I kicked your collective asses.”</p><p>Killer’s eyes flicker with light for a moment and he looks downright giddy. “Oh my god?? I had you down all wrong Goldie, love the sass, you’re great in my book already! ..Wait. ‘Metaphorical balls’? Wouldn’t you just literally have—“</p><p>“Oh my stars we aren’t talking about this anymore!”</p><p>Laughing, Killer will shake his jacket off and steady his stance, not bothering to retrieve his shoes. He grabs a knife from his jacket before tossing it off near the shoes and socks. “Alright, let’s do this! You might want to lighten up, uh, literally. If you don’t I’m totally wrecking your nice new clothes.”</p><p>Wait they’re sparring right now? And with real weapons? Oh. Alright. Dream will shrug off the coat, folding it and neatly setting it aside. Looking over to Killer he decides to follow suit, kicking off his boots and socks. Aren’t you supposed to not run when you’re by a pool? Oh well. He summons his weapon, taking the shape of blades again. Killer tsks.</p><p>“You can’t use that, we’re going with a simple, real knife! I know you have one, Dust and Horror wouldn’t shut up about it.” Dream hesitates. It must have been visible as Killer quickly adds, “you saw where I pulled mine out of, it’s only fair! Besides, we’re not supposed to be fighting in here, yeah?”</p><p>…Dream supposed even if he did need to use his hidden blade against them in the future, he could always default to his second one instead. Without breaking eye contact his blades disappear. He lifts one foot behind him and retrieves the knife he used to escape.</p><p>Killer stares at it for a good few long seconds. He hums. “…You have to show me that thing up close later, it looks fancy.”</p><p>Dream shrugs. “It really isn’t.”</p><p>“Bullshit, look at that thing, it’s made of fucking gold. What’s with that weird blue shine it’s got?”</p><p>The blade is downright iridescent at times. He knows it looks flashy and if he could go for a normal one, he likely would. However, “Gold doesn’t corrode; time has little to no effect on it. It’s just enchanted so it’s more durable and keeps its shape.” Gold is quite a soft mineral, it was necessary. And making something stronger is easier than making something withstand the test of time.</p><p>“I mean. Weird knife flex but okay. I hope you know you’re totally helping me find a way to do that too later, just FYI.” Killer raises his perfectly normal knife up again. Dream finds his own stance. He only has a moment before Killer flashes him a cocky grin and dashes forward. No start or go or anything apparently, they’re just going for it! He expected this though, sometimes Ink does the exact same thing.</p><p>He tosses his own knife up, moves to the side and grabs Killer’s forearm with his own locking and twisting it to disarm him. He kicks the knife away as it clatters to the ground before catching his own and moving it swiftly to the other’s neck.</p><p>Killer looks equally utterly confused, baffled and astonished. He feels just the same, though Dream can’t miss that slowly rising excitement.</p><p>“What? Why are you excited? If this were a real fight I could have killed you.”</p><p>“Yeah, but it’s you so you definitely wouldn’t and no one else has ever done that to me.” Killer laughs. “Also can you let go now, I concede.”</p><p>Dream gives him a look, hesitantly releasing him. He half expects to be taken into that next round instantly again, ready to defend himself. Though the sudden attack doesn’t come. Yet.</p><p>“How’dja do that?” Dream’s never seen the murderer excited like this. Usually he sometimes acts in a crazed mania when killing and fighting, though compared to that this is far more innocent.</p><p>“I’m not here to teach you, I’m not telling you.” Killer deflates a bit and Dream finds himself hesitant. From his feelings he knows Killer over exaggerated his disappointment. Though some is still present. “…But I guess I wouldn’t be able to stop you from learning if you witness it more, yeah?” He readies his blade again. “Ready?”</p><p>Like a switch the excitement is back. Dream is concerned for how easily his mood can be swayed, as well as how he’s becoming more jittery the more excited he gets. Is that alright? Should he try to get him to calm? Is him being like this dangerous? It’s… It’s probably fine.</p><p>Killer swipes fast from the side this time. Dream steps back to get out of the way, quickly stabbing forward as he does so, aiming and catching killer under the forearm in a long cut. He stabs just above his elbow on that same arm to push him back slightly before getting him in the inner leg not too far above the knee. Killer loses all grip and is unable to bend his arm enough to swing again anyways. With the damage to his leg he finds he has issues moving quick or dodging.</p><p>His eyes are wide again. “…You keep shutting me down so fast, how’d you do that??”</p><p>“I just aimed for important places, it’s basic self-defense… Wait!” He wasn’t supposed to be helping or answering questions! “Okay that’s all you’re getting, I’m really not going to tell you more this time!”</p><p>Despite Killer laughing at him, he’ll come over and start healing the injuries he gave him, huffing in embarrassment. Ah, he cut a bit deeper than he meant to. Instinct maybe, he isn’t used to holding back when using actual weapons. Even training ones he isn’t used to. Luckily, unlike Cross, Killer doesn’t seem at all opposed to being healed by Dream.</p><p>“You keep going defensive so I guess I get it. Come on though, next round you have to go offensive instead!”</p><p>“Gosh, okay.” He’s accidentally had his afternoon planned for him, hasn’t he?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter just refused to be written honestly-- It's done now though, we're free.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In which Dust is confused</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s sure they spent the night just training. As it turns out, Killer doesn’t tire easily, and being not exactly human himself, it was a similar story there. Of course, they had to wear each other out eventually. And when that eventually finally came, they took a break for Dream to heal both of their wounds before going their separate ways. Killer went to his room, though Dream decided to check out the kitchen. He wanted to claim a room himself to be his current base of operations, because there’s nothing Nightmare can do about it. But he also feels a snack would be a good idea first! He may not age or need to eat as much, but he still has to occasionally at the very least and it’s healthy! Which is perhaps unfortunate as he enters the kitchen, approaching the fridge. He hears a harsh, guttural growl near him.</p><p>As he looks to see where it came from, a shape moves in front of the fridge, completely blocking him. A large, looming shape, which he quickly realizes is Horror. His expression is blank, yet his stance is ready for a fight, single eye lingering hard on him. …Well. He doesn’t have to eat right away he supposes. He’ll find another time for it. He smiles, “Sorry,” then leaves.</p><p>All the bedrooms aside from Nightmare’s are in one area. He’ll have to find one not currently being used. It’s easy to tell which ones are occupied given the doors. One has bits of duct tape covering holes that must have been made from the other side. Yet it has a small welcome sign dangled off the doorknob. He’s going to assume it’s Killer’s room and it’s a joke given his sense of humour and personality. What must be Horror’s is stained, wood discoloured in a few places, mostly around the doorknob and the bottom. He’s deciding not to think too hard about why the wood may have ended up like that. Finally, Dust’s is helpfully marked with a door decoration with the words “Dust and Pap”.</p><p>Speaking of Dust, Dream looks behind him as the stalking emotional presence returns. He sees a bit of grey and blue as someone bolts back around the corner. He’s still following him, huh..? That’s probably fine. If he doesn’t want to talk but still wants to keep up with what he’s doing, that’s okay. Not that being constantly followed isn’t going to feel incredibly weird. He’s already getting paranoid.</p><p>He opens a few doors down the halls, finding most of them empty or missing sheets, blankets, pillows or entire mattresses. One door farther down the hall from the others is locked when he tries the doorknob. Looking up he notices a black X painted on it. Oh, it must be Cross’. “Sorry,” he says to the door in case someone’s behind it. Feeling the faintest stir of emotions, he’ll move on.</p><p>Thankfully the next door down finally opens to reveal an intact room. It’s still missing basic furniture, just having a proper bed, but he figures he can just take that from other rooms. Maybe that’s what happened to those rooms in the first place.</p><p>As he heads in and closes the door he feels that stalking presence come over and up to the door. Honestly now… Oh well. He’s getting some rest and a little eavesdropping isn’t going to stop him.</p><p>The window has the curtains drawn. He opens them, though finds no sunlight. A red sky, a full moon, mostly dead, thorned plants and bramble. He closes them again. He usually always prefers the light, but not when he has to see a world like that. When the laundry finishes he should move one of those dressers in here… And maybe a chair? What is he even going to do while staying at this castle? Maybe he can grab some books from the library when Nightmare leaves? Should he be more worried about becoming bored in here? He was starting to miss the constant chaos brought about by being near his team for any period of time.</p><p>He can’t work, his friends aren’t near. Yet the stress remains. The feeling faintly reminds him of when he’d pull himself aside to take breaks. The soft dark and blue of a pacifist timeline’s abandoned Waterfall, just the sound of running water and smell of wet dirt, mushrooms the only source of dull illumination. He often practiced harp in places like that, when he had issues telling what thoughts and feelings were his own. It seems like it would be a good idea now, even if he isn’t overwhelmed in that particular sense.</p><p>He sits on the edge of the bed, summoning his harp, forming it from the light that normally makes his staff or bow. He plucks simple scales to test first as he figures out what he would like to play today. The repetitive motion is immediately calming. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed the stress. It makes sense thinking about it though. Being kidnapped and having to stay in an enemy base for who knows how long isn’t exactly the most relaxing situation. Maybe he’s just gotten so used to a stressful life he doesn’t even feel it anymore? Not having to be on the run or worry that wherever he’s staying and whoever kind people are housing him will be attacked just because he’s associated with them is reassuring on its own. He isn’t used to that. He must not have noticed because technically the stress level didn’t change. Maybe? It doesn’t matter.</p><p>There’s a knock on the door to his room, interrupting his strumming. He stops. Did Dust never leave? He gets off the bed with a creak of springs, leaving the harp where it is for now, opening the door. It is indeed Dust who looks behind him at the harp for a moment before glancing at him. He only makes eye contact briefly before looking hard at their shoes instead.</p><p>“…Uh..” he immediately begins mumbling awkwardly, “Papyrus says I should say thank you.”</p><p>Dream has to take a quiet moment to process he’s actually being thanked. Perhaps the word was there but he hadn’t expected it. “Oh. Um. You’re welcome?” His own words come out equally as awkward.</p><p>They stand in silence. Dust doesn’t seem satisfied with just that but is too anxious to keep looking up at his face, likely completely out of his element. He is suddenly very interested in their shoes apparently while Dream finds his own gaze drifting to the wall on the other side of the hallway. They’re just standing here, he has to say something—“Uhhhh,” he looks at Dust again with a smile he hopes isn’t as awkward as he feels. “Do you want to come in..?”</p><p>Dust’s mismatched eyes look back up at his face, studying his expression. The quiet and delay in response feels unnaturally long, as if he’s trying to take in every detail of his expression and every detail in his irises.</p><p>“…Okay.”</p><p>Letting go of some of the tension Dream didn’t know he’d started keeping in, he gestured into his room then went back to sit on his bed. Dust slowly moved in, though politely shut the door behind him. He looked around the room as if it were somewhere entirely foreign to him, despite likely being more familiar with it than Dream.</p><p>The harp calls and Dream simply sits to get back into his search for the right melody. He finds it in a more classical piece he’s done probably thousands of times before. Despite some places of complexity his muscle memory takes over, leaving his mind to wonder, not having to think of what he’s doing. And yet feeling the sway in Dust’s emotions he starts to focus on what he’s portraying in his playing more. Melancholy, yes. He begins to pour more heart into his performance. If he focuses on just it and not where he is, it’s almost like he’s playing for children in another timeline to awe and calm them for a moment.</p><p>He notices Dust looking around the room when the song ends and he starts another one. After some time he nods seemingly to himself, then leaves. Dream doesn’t think much of it. He only plays a few more songs before he heads to bed after hearing knocking and shushing from the room next to his. Ah, Cross’ room, yes he can feel some annoyance and drowsiness. Was he trying to sleep? “Sorry!” he calls back apologetically, dismissing his harp. Perhaps this is a good time for him to rest as well?</p><p>The lays back, the bed is soft and plush. He piles the blankets on top of him, reveling in the warmth finally. Comfortable, soft, warm, heavy, dark…</p><p> </p><p>…A void? He sits in the middle of a void, the only light coming from himself. He gets to his feet… He thinks he sees a grey-ish figure through the darkness ahead so he starts to walk. The ground is solid and smooth, the click of his shoes echoing on the ground. ..Click? He looks down. Why is he wearing heels? Huh… Weird.</p><p>He draws closer and finds not one, but several figures. They’re all an ashen grey and look to be made of stone… He shivers at a memory threatening to creep back. He shakes off the stiffness trying to make its way back into his limbs. He heads around to the front of the first figure and stiffens in surprise. It looks like Ink. He’s missing his brush and paints, roughed up and stuck in a pose with his hand out and a cheeky smile on his face. Dream reaches out to touch him, check if he’s breathing or aware… Cold. Cold, rough stone… He rushes to the next figure.</p><p>Blue..? He’s holding his head with one hand. It almost looks like something is flickering by his face… Though Dream can’t make out what it might be. He touches him, also cold stone. </p><p>There are yet more figures he can’t quite make out. He takes a step towards them. He can make out severe damage to the closest one’s head, is that Horror? He hears only soft, almost muted crumbling as warning before the floor gives out from under him. All the statues are gone from his radius of sight just as quickly. Falling. Cold.</p><p>Cold.</p><p>Cold.</p><p> </p><p>..Warm?</p><p>He rolls on his back and opens his eyes. He can feel the sheets on him again, nice and warm compared to the coolness of the room. He almost doesn’t want to get out from them. So he was dreaming then. Cold, why do all his dreams have to end in cold? And he was falling… He’s not sure what else happened aside from that.</p><p>He figures he should get up anyways though. He can’t be productive while just sleeping. He doesn’t know what he’d be doing to be productive exactly, but it still feels weird to just lie around. Maybe it’s habit. As he gets up he feels apprehension which he knows for sure he has no reason to feel. It isn’t his. He looks to it, towards the doorway. Mismatched eyes meet his, peeking, though they widen and disappear as Dust ducks out of sight again, hiding and closing the door. …Okay then?</p><p>He turns to see what he was looking at and feels a level of surprise. A desk has been moved into his room? As has a little potted plant which sits gently on top. He sees a piece of paper. The curiousity is enough to push him into getting out of the bed fully as he comes over, grabbing and unfolding the note.</p><p>‘Thanks<br/>–D + P’</p><p>Perhaps these people aren’t as completely insane as he thought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Writer's block strikes again, hence shorter chapter. Honestly the other chapters were kinda real long for some reason what was I on--</p><p>I'm trying to still get these out despite everything though!  Hope you peeps are doing well! ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In which Dream thinks too much</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So much free time, so little to do. Dream did manage to snag a book from the library, but as he lays propped up by extra pillows, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander, not really reading the words of the page he’s looking at. Thinking about his life, how normal everything was before all of this. What that normal even is.</p><p>Being an empath can be difficult and even confusing at times. In the beginning he had quite a bit of trouble distinguishing his own emotions from others. The first time he and Ink went to a timeline in ruins, he broke down crying with the other monsters he was supposed to be escorting to safety. It nearly cost them all their lives. Since then he’s worked and worked to get it under control. Emotions can be sorted now, if it isn’t something that he should logically be feeling then it’s not his. Likewise, if it feels faint or distant, it isn’t his either, it’s someone at a distance.</p><p>And yet there are still times it can be difficult to distinguish the difference. Ink’s the exception, with his it’s simple as his emotions feel different than everyone else’s. However, sometimes things can get muddled. In those situations, he tries to hold onto the positive as his own and the negative as outside influence. Even if perhaps it might not be the case, it’s easier to believe that and makes him of more help to his friends.</p><p>That anger he feels when Error is destroying a timeline must be coming from the world destroyer, as he hates universes. That frustration he feels when he tries to convince people who aren’t willing to listen is coming from them, likely becoming annoyed with him. When he tries to help or appeal to the band of bad guys they often come into conflict with, that pity he sometimes feels is from him. He knows logically that they must have gotten to that place in life through suffering and it’s a shame he can’t help them even now, right? It would make no sense if it were theirs.</p><p>Some negative feelings are his. The regret when he can’t save someone, the concern and worry he feels when his friends are hurt or missing, the sadness when he thinks about his brother. He knows that’s his, he doesn’t deny all negative feelings.</p><p>Though just because he acknowledges that these feelings are his, it doesn’t mean he’s going to act on them. Tuning out his own emotions is just as simple as it is with others. He considers this likely a good thing. He knows with other people it isn’t healthy to bury emotions, he’s had plenty of experience helping people with their mental health. Yet he’s not like other people. Most can’t constantly feel that of everyone around them, and in times of danger and high stress it’s important to not get lost in such feelings. He has to be able to properly and effectively respond to the threat.</p><p>All members of his team do this at least in some form. Ink can feel more or less whatever he wants, so he doesn’t tend to touch his vials during a battle unless they can be used as an advantage somehow. Blue’s one of the bravest people he knows, younger than them but with the same fighting spirit. He knows the guy’s often scared in the face of great danger, especially when people are getting hurt. Yet he never relents, adrenaline allowing him to push through despite his fears. He allows himself to finally express all his feelings after a battle, once he’s sure everyone’s safe. And himself? He’s the empath. It would be quite silly if he couldn’t keep on top of these things. His aura does tend to create a range of stability for his team to fall back on when the going gets tough, keeping their spirits up. Though they rarely are the ones in need of that, his powers usually being reserved for protecting and helping frightened universe residents.</p><p>Though he has to admit, it can be quite difficult to remember who he is. It’s exhausting trying to sort emotions while having to feel and deal with all of them. He remembers times in which he’d been so scared he didn’t have an identity anymore, that he was just a reflection of people around him. And so he found a solution. He made his habit of visiting pacifist universe Waterfalls.</p><p>Sometimes he finds it almost funny about how he could possibly be stressed about his work.</p><p>Not all heroes wear capes, as ironic as that may be. And not all heroes fight for the fate of the multiverse! But they are all equally important in the daily life of an individual. As such, though Dream does both of those former things, he still tends to hop from universe to universe, just helping with the regular sorts of problems people have.</p><p>He feels he may be the only member of his squad that does this. Blue certainly would if he could, but he has obligations at home, as well as a social life to maintain. Meanwhile, Ink tends to not really understand some of the intricacies people have, and why they would need help. Certainly if a problem involves motivation he will be over in a heartbeat, giving advice and praise. Even the occasional person who just seems down may pique his interest; he doesn’t act like the soulless creature he knows some make him out to be when on his paints. How would Dream be able to be friends with someone without any morality or kindness? He knows Ink can be an incredibly selfish person, but he still likes to believe his intentions are in the right place. His emotions may be artificial, but they’re still there and still real enough to him. Even if he often uses them to be an utter nuisance.</p><p>Still, it’s hard to find him outside the doodle sphere at times unless he’s dealing with creator motivation and art or writing block issues. He has a surprising lack of friends. As such, Dream is generally the only one out doing things like this. That’s alright though! Spreading positivity is basically in his job description and he likes to help people however he can.</p><p>Even if that means moving a lot of planters for an old lady for two hours and sharing cookies and tea after.<br/>Or finding a boy who has crashed his bike, panicking about how he’s going to get through a dangerous neighbourhood home, then walking him home, sharing pleasant conversation on the way. Helping pick up a woman’s clothes after her line snapped in a storm maybe, engaging her in conversation about her daughter’s soon to be third birthday. A college aged man sitting on a bench in a graveyard, overlooking a new grave and Dream sitting next to him managing to get him to talk about what’s wrong. Reassuring him he wasn’t at fault for the untimely death of his best friend, even if he had an argument which led to him storming out.</p><p>He likes his job. He loves helping and consoling people; seeing that brightness return to their eyes. Hearing their stories and learning of their lives. It’s fascinating, all these people existing and living together, all with their own lives and experiences, all this time that led them to this point. Each one is special and unique, even other universe variants of people tend to have their differences. It makes it hurt all the more when he can’t protect them in an attack. When people who have futures so bright get their lives snuffed out before they can fully realize it. Sometimes a reset can fix it, but it still hurts. It always hurts.</p><p>And sometimes even his job, even helping just leads people to hurt him. Not physically, though admittedly that has happened a few times… Some cases perhaps far, far worse than others. He’ll try to stop a fight between two strangers. They may stop but glare daggers the whole way past him. The hurt he feels may partially come from him, though he hopes it’s from them too. Perhaps he wishes to justify that they are simply having a bad day. Maybe he opens a door for a woman only for her to pause, scoffs and open the other door to let herself in. And he’s just left gazing after her, puzzled as to why such disgust and loathing is aimed at him. He justifies the frustration must be hers too. Or a teen trips and drops his phone. Dream manages to catch it, then tries to help the teen up. Yet he bats away his hand. He stands on his own and snatches the phone before pushing past him, bumping shoulders. He must be having a bad day. How else would you explain that embarrassment and annoyance?</p><p>Alright, he’s not stupid. He knows some of those feelings may be his own. Though he prefers to not think of them as such. Getting angry doesn’t help anyone, and feeling hurt? That doesn’t help himself. He’ll spend the rest of the day unwinding in his little area, focusing on the positives and the people he helped for the better and got to speak with. He perhaps spends the rest of his day with his harp, playing for children of an Underfell universe. Afterwards he works a gig, playing at the local Grillby’s long enough to be able to pay for a room at the inn, where he retires for the night.</p><p>This could be considered quite a normal day in his book. What his hours of being awake are filled with. A multiversal hobo is what he is, he can laugh to himself for that, even if he’d feel self-conscious if others thought that of him. Error looks the type who would be like that, damaged and stitched together clothes, baggy and mismatched. Yet even he has a home in the antivoid. Dream likes to justify that his home is with the kind people of the multiverse and he’s never truly alone. Perhaps it can’t be helped; Dream has to be on the run. If he stays anywhere too long he risks Nightmare being able to find him due to the unnaturally steady and quick shift towards positivity the universe slowly gains. His brother knows if he’s staying in a timeline like that he generally must be alone. More than once he’s been ambushed and jumped for just that. He could of course run, but that puts the universe even more at risk than it already could be. So he usually has to call Ink and have a fight neither of them are prepared for and unable to get ahold of Blue. He doesn’t want to put anyone in danger like that. So he doesn’t mind this sort of lifestyle.</p><p>His whole job isn’t like this however. He often finds himself fighting. And it’s usually with their most common foe. The fights can all be the same, meshing together steadily in his mind. Yet their last one sticks out in Dream’s mind as he lies on his bed, pondering.</p><p>His usual confrontation with Nightmare, being the only one who can efficiently fight him took them far from the battle. Which was perfect as it would keep Nightmare from keeping tabs on his lackeys. He can feel Ink and Blue’s feelings and is used to how they change when they’re losing. He knows those on his brother’s side are utterly insane and their emotional states don’t change as much whether they’re losing or at a tie. Or at least he thought he knew that, his recent few experiences with them in the castle have shown perhaps dismissing them like that was a mistake. They’re people themselves; they have motivations, hopes and lives. He’s ashamed that he of all people forgot something like that.</p><p>Still, in their last fight he manages to keep Nightmare on his toes, not letting up with his arrows. Nightmare tried to stab at him in turn with his tendrils. He stayed mobile due to them and tried to use the surrounding shadows to restrain or slow Dream. Dream managed to keep himself away from them despite all the trees and the darkness they cast, keeping a glowing arrow ready at all times. Still after firing one of them he didn’t manage to draw back another fast enough and the shadow of a tree fell over him. Nightmare reacted immediately in that moment and Dream felt a pull towards the ground. A tendril came flying his way. He shifted his torso so it mostly misses him, though it still manages to catch his side, shredding the fabric of his clothes as well as cutting into his side, a sharp, cold pain. He believes he still has a light scar from that which his regeneration in brighter timelines hadn’t managed to completely fade yet. Still, he remembers taking the opportunity to catch the tendril between himself and his bow, in the middle of the wiggling appendage so it couldn’t harm him. Nightmare tried to twist it back, though before he could light morphed Dream’s bow in the middle, separating it into two daggers which he used to completely sever the appendage.</p><p>Nightmare roared, falling back. The tendrils always dissolve not long after being cut off. Dream gave him no time to breath or recover, sprinting up to him with the knives, slashing and swiping every opportunity he can. The fight was all fairly standard, though it changed after this. It’s not often he can get so close to his brother without being shish-kabobbed on the way there. The primary reason for that is Nightmare’s bulky tendrils as they make any close combat hard.</p><p>Perhaps that’s a good thing though as Dream himself dislikes being able to get so close as it can be messy and feel a bit more personally hurtful than just shooting. Still, he had a job to do, and he may still care for Nightmare but he’s long past become resolute that he has to fight him or he’ll just cause more damage. So he made use of the opportunity and still fought.</p><p>Nightmare tried to disarm him, though being far less experienced with such weapons so close, he didn’t manage to and just got himself hurt, He would growl, his face distorting in a way terrifying to some, but normal to Dream by now. He imagines it was only partially caused by Nightmare being angry, likely also an attempt to startle or scar others. This could work well in distracting long enough to either get a hit in or create some space. Dream remained unfazed and focused. A cut was just barely redirected from Nightmare’s stomach, instead hitting his side, However a stab to his chest hits. With this neutral timeline neither of them were healing, nor any more powerful than the other.</p><p>The neutrality makes it easier to fight on seemingly even ground. Though even then there should be a great power imbalance, and in fact there technically is. Yet despite the stronger magical supply and presence, Nightmare has gotten quite used to finding a timeline more negative and only having to punch down, while Dream has to fight an upwards battle near constantly. It means sometimes Nightmare lets himself slip. And sometimes Dream manages to get the upper hand on him before his friends either win or lose, turning the tide of battle in one way or another.</p><p>That would be one of those rare times. Nightmare stumbled back allowing Dream to tackle him. Nightmare rolled them over with his tendrils, effectively pinning Dream to the ground instead. Dream remembered himself turning his blades into a staff which he jabbed into the ground on one side to him over Nightmare again. He remembers this so vividly as later when he and his partners were discussing the battle he started being teased for ‘straddling Nightmare’ which earned the other two a bonk on the head with his staff. How is he ever going to be able to get the upper hand like that again with those two making it weird for him? Honestly, just rude. And inappropriate. Now he’s riled himself up again with remembering something they said. How dare they always do this to him??</p><p>Still, at the time he didn’t know and he saw the tendrils strain as if they were about to do the same thing again. Not particularly wanting to start flipping around and around, Dream created a barrier, keeping it small and trapping the two. He’s glad he never mentioned this part, he’s sure the other two would have a field day over that. It had worked surprisingly well at the time though as it trapped several of Nightmare’s tendrils, pressing them to the ground. Dream knows with just Nightmare’s arms he can physically overcome him and the light must have been too much to escape via turning to the shadows as he normally does. Dream isn’t sure why he didn’t just call one of his gang over magically, he’s seen him do that before. Perhaps he didn’t want to interrupt their fight? Or perhaps he simply could not do that either. Either way, for a moment of confusion, Dream realized he might have actually managed to be able to capture Nightmare in a way he couldn’t escape. Albeit, he was trapped as well, though one of them was far more dangerous to his team and the world.</p><p>In hindsight, keeping him there could have led to him thinking of a way out, as well as many ways to hurt Dream. There was no guarantee he’d actually be able to keep him in there until his partners got over. Though he never got to find out whether that was the case or not. Though. maybe those thoughts are just justifications he made to excuse himself.</p><p>Yet Nightmare’s words really stuck with him at the time. “I’m impressed. You seemed too soft to pull something like this.”</p><p>He hadn’t been sure what he meant, but didn’t want to engage him in conversation, knowing he only starts talking like this if he wants to get into someone’s head. He unfortunately must have forgotten this at some point during the rest of their conversation.</p><p>“I mean. Traps are traps, sure. I can understand some things fine. And attacking and injuring, that’s a whole other thing, it’s fair. Yet to commit to something this cruel, well then. I applaud you. I’ve only seen Horror pull stuff like this.”</p><p>“…What do you mean..?” He couldn’t help himself, not sure what he was talking about in the slightest.</p><p>“Well, traps that hurt you if you struggle. And disfigure you if you try to escape.”</p><p>Now Dream remembered just being confused. “What in the world are you talking about.”</p><p>“The barrier,” he comments, tone flat, expression blank. “It’s thin. And it’s on me. If I move it’ll cut into me. And if I try to push you or get up, several of my appendages will certainly be cut off.” Dream felt alarm hit him as he looked over. It seemed true, all of Nightmare’s tendrils were under it as he was stuck like a starfish. Some had moved up to attack the barrier, only to be half cut through, resting against or on top of it instead to prevent themselves from being severed completely. He sees those remaining having made an attempt to retract, though unable to get through the barrier to do so. Dream felt his stomach turn at the unintentional and unfair cruelty he had caused. He let up the barrier and stumbled back off Nightmare immediately. Yes, it was a stupid thing to do. Putting people at more risk when he could have stopped it and kept Nightmare trapped. But the idea of keeping someone in a way that was hurting them to that extent was too much for him at the time and he panicked before he could think it through. He’s lucky it turned out fine in the end or he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself.</p><p>Nightmare had stood smugly, reforming and reshaping his tendrils again easily with the very fluid they’re made of. “Stupid. Honestly, you’re such a laughably soft idiot.” He laughs darkly. He acts as if he’s in peak condition, but Dream doesn’t miss the fact he’s still damaged quite a bit from Dream’s knife. And he knows for sure attacking the tendrils hurt, so that bitter emotion he was feeling when he was trapped wasn’t just for show. “Wonderful show, pretending you care. Did Ink teach you?”</p><p>That must have been the point Dream forgot he was likely just talking to get under his skin. But he just remembered that comment sticking with him in particular. Maybe it was the hypocrisy. Maybe he was simply tired. Nightmare had jeered him a lot, and he feels like a fool now for finally interacting with him due to one. “I can’t both be soft and pretending I care.” He knows he’d realized the mistake he’d made almost immediately after making it even. Funny how he realized one, then immediately made another. “If I had been thinking about it logically enough to pretend I cared, I’d never have let you go!”</p><p>Nightmare rolled his single visible cyan eye. “Please. That’s where the ‘idiot’ part comes in. You can’t let yourself do something cruel or it would destroy your image.”</p><p>And there had been that feeling again. The odd one that made him feel compelled to respond. “My image? Why would I care about that?”</p><p>“Oh, a number of reasons.” Nightmare sneered. “How else would people cheer for you as the saviour of the multiverse? How else could you fool so many people into protecting you when you know they could get hurt or die for it. How would so many people help you? You may as well admit it, Dream. You’ve only ever done anything to help your image and fuel your ego.”</p><p>“That’s absolutely ridiculous. Why would I work so hard to make things better if all I cared about was image? I just want to make the world a better place, though I know that can be hard for you to understand at this stage…” He had felt pity. “I hope that maybe at some point you had known that.”</p><p>Nightmare must have felt it. “Please, spare me your façades, there’s no point in trying to pretend you were ever in it for that. People don’t just do things out of the kindness of their heart, moron. No matter how much you trick yourself into believing that. They always want something.”</p><p>Dream had felt saddened. Though he remembers that hadn’t lasted long after he had asked, “If I just did things to get something, what could I have possibly got from helping you? I didn’t want anything then, I just cared about you.”</p><p>Nightmare scoffed, then laughed mockingly. “Please! What did you ever do for me?”</p><p>“…What did I…” That was it. That comment was the complete turning point in their conversation, in their fight. The feeling had hit like a freight train to his heart. He couldn’t contain the shaking that slowly worsened as they kept talking. He had felt his own thoughts become overrun as the fiery anger from himself and his former best friend mixed and meld, becoming burning hot. Normally he would try to justify it was Nightmare. But as it kept growing he simply couldn’t. He knew that he himself was the one fueling it. And he couldn’t stop.</p><p>“ ‘What did I do for you’? Did you just forget all those nights when you were too scared to sleep alone, so I would sit next to you for hours just to make sure you were safe? Did you forget how since you wouldn’t go into the village I would bring back food every single day, how I made note of your favourites and how whenever you asked for something, it doesn’t matter what it was, I would find a way to get it? Those times when we were sad on the anniversary of Mother’s attack I would plan ahead and have toys and games to play all day, so you would be able to smile through it? How about all those hours we spent just watching stars and making up our own constellations? When though I knew I would have to be awake enough the next day because I made sure I was always the ones the villagers approached because you didn’t trust them?”</p><p>He knew repressed frustration was coming back to him. He tried to push it down again, tightening his grip on his staff. It didn’t work. “How I was the one who ended up handling all their problems, how every day I would head over alone to help them no matter how I was feeling, to keep them happy so they would trust and protect us too? How about the times when I realized you had bruises and I started staying with you at all times when I would normally be free to do things for myself just to make sure you were safe too? Or how much I vouched for you and praised you to the village so they could still appreciate you even if you never saw them?</p><p>“Do you want more specific examples? The time you fell out of the tree and I broke my arm catching you, when you had nightmares and I spent the rest of the night talking and joking with you so you’d feel better. Maybe the time you fell in the creek and I spent the whole day with you, making sure you were warm and okay and helping you feel comfortable again, even though I got in trouble for not heading into the village that day! You’ve lied a lot and it feels like they’ve just been getting worse as time goes on, but I won’t let you stand there and try to make me think I did nothing when we both know that’s not true!”</p><p>“Isn’t it though?” Nightmare shouted back. “Ooo, touting every time you’ve ever been a decent fucking person definitely makes you seem so much better! Let’s just bring attention to the fact you help the poor and fix problems as a job, what are you going to heal the blind next?? You’re selfish! If doing ‘the right thing’ didn’t give you power, you would be just as bad as me! You didn’t do those things for us, you did it so they’d praise you! And where did that leave me?”</p><p>“So what, am I gullible or am I manipulative!? Choose one! You can’t just keep finding new words to call me when the current ones don’t fit your narrative! I’m not the cause of all your problems, Nightmare, stop trying to pretend I am! I tried my absolute best, but you didn’t tell me anything! And you know what? I get it! I didn’t tell you shit either!” He saw the other’s eyes widen very slightly as he started to recognize that very real anger from not just coming from himself. That realization still didn’t quell his fury. “Did I tell you about how the village treated me like some kind of fix all for their issues? How many people would see me come into town and immediately give me their chore list, or how bitter and gossipy they got when I backed out of it? How they would start saying it’s because you influenced me and I’d argue and they’d always get me to do it anyways to prove it?”</p><p>He realizes now he had been ranting. Maybe he’d even realized that at the time. Either way, he hadn’t stopped his frustrated, exasperated tirade. “How about all the people who never took me seriously, how they would start planning what I’d do for the day with no say from me. Just how many people started asking me for advice or healing I was too naïve and inexperienced to apply. When some treated me terribly because they knew I’d do it anyways. Nightmare, you hated the villagers for what they did to you and I tried and tried and tried my best to keep them content and friendly and happy with us so they wouldn’t blame or hurt you more! I tried to keep them satiated so you would never have to go near them if you didn’t want to and they treated me like dirt because of it!</p><p>“But you know what? I was helping! I was improving their lives and they were content! Most of them left you alone and I could keep them providing us with food and gifts just so I could see you smile! Nightmare, everything I did, I did it because of you! You were my whole world. I really, truly loved you. But you’re right. I am an idiot. Because I guess I was trying to make the world better for someone who had his head stuck too far up his ass to see any of it in the first place. We didn’t tell each other anything. And look where that got us. Yeah, I wasn’t perfect, I never was and I’m still not by any stretch! But at least I tried.”</p><p>Nightmare’s expression had been one between shock and unbridled rage. He stood, unable to find words before an unhuman growl tore out of him and sharpened tendrils came at Dream from all sides with reckless abandon. “You think I had a choice in how they felt? I don’t care what you say, I was right!! One mistake, one fucking mistake and they all turned! That proves more than anything that you weren’t doing anything. It doesn’t matter how hard you tried, Dream, it didn’t do or change anything! It just meant when someone finally, actually needed you, you were too late!”</p><p>Dream had run out of the way of the tendrils, right at Nightmare. “You think I don’t know that!? You think I never realized and I haven’t beat myself up over it for decades? You had so much longer to process this stuff and wallow in sadness than me, and still you’ve decided it’s everyone’s fault but your own! It’s been so long, clearly we’re both morons who never addressed it at all!”</p><p>He charged at Nightmare with his staff, waiting for the right moment when Nightmare would strike. “You think I do this for image! Plenty take my image just as you do! That I’m doing it for attention or for my ego! And with those who don’t, do you have any idea how many people believe they're entitled to my help for anything? Or how many people try to insert me into their fights or arguments!” Ready for the attack, he dodged out of the way. As it flew past him he got close enough to Nightmare to retaliate. He changed his staff into blades which he attempted to use to cut through the tendrils at their base. He only managed to mostly get through one before Nightmare sunk into the shadows to avoid the rest, appearing out the shadow cast by a large willow, one appendage limp. He charged again without hesitation the moment he saw him reappear.</p><p>“Do you know people attack me just because they think I’m too soft to do anything about it? Or better yet, how many times people have tried to kidnap me for my aura in darker timelines! Isn’t my aura useful, making people feel better and think they’re in love with me when I’m around only to grow bitter when I’m gone!” He sidestepped an attack and slashes down the length of the appendage as he kept running. He doesn’t know how he managed to not flinch at doing such a thing at the time. The thought makes him queasy now. Sure it was more effective than just cutting through it, though still.</p><p>The argument had continued into the battle. “How I must just love never being able to get close to anyone because they’ll be affected just by being near me! How I can’t stay in one place for too long or you’ll come hunt me down, putting the people actually gracious enough to house me at risk! Oh, oh! It’s my favourite that I can never actually know if people like me or are just inclined to because of my aura or how my life basically isn’t my own because I constantly have to do what others want and act because of what people like you will do! Isn’t that fun!” He came down with his blades which Nightmare blocked his forearm. “I’m just trying my best to do what I think is right! And you decided to make the whole world your enemy, me along with it. I hope you’re happy! Realizing you were miserable, I actually genuinely hope that you’re finally content with your life after everything! At least one of us deserves to be safe and content!”</p><p>He glared into a cyan eye… One now wracked with confusion. His frustration had started to slip as the new emotion struck him. He could feel that anger was still present in both of their emotions yet he felt Nightmare’s being dominated by not knowing what to do. He’d become completely stunned. Dream pulled back, realizing who he was yelling at. He turned his blades into a staff. He remembers starting to hold it defensively, taking a few steps back when he realized. Regret washed over him as all the other’s usually well-hidden feelings started to sink in. As the air felt cool on his newly warmed cheeks Dream realized he was crying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have yelled, I…” He was still upset with Nightmare. And he was sure the other was well aware of that at the time. Yet this immense guilt made his chest tighten.</p><p>Nightmare looked even more at a loss. Suddenly he sank into the ground and zipped off as a shadow. Panic struck Dream as he realized Nightmare was heading towards his friends. He got ready to teleport to them, only to suddenly feel the entire universe get lighter. Negativity and positivity returned to their normal levels. All of them, Nightmare and his gang had retreated. He no longer felt their presence. Yet his own and his partner’s remains. The others had left? He remembers being so confused at the time.</p><p>Yet that weight in his stomach was still there. Thinking back, he thinks he can still feel it, even if faintly…</p><p>A sudden knock on his door, causes him to jolt out of his thoughts and vivid recollection! As he opens his mouth to ask who it is his question is answered immediately as a portal opens through the door and Error strolls through.</p><p>Dream laughs. “Why did you even bother to knock?”</p><p>“Because it’s polite. It’s real rude to just walk in without knocking.” Error says as if it’s the most important thing in the world. Dream decides not to comment on how the actual permission to enter is just as important.</p><p>“Alright. Did you need something?”</p><p>“Okay so! Basically I did end up doing that thing and gave your message or whatever and Blue said to send you imaginary cupcakes because I threatened to eat real ones. Uhhh, and also Ink told me to say ‘tu me manques’ for him or something.” He huffs. “He was real particular with that being how it’s said so you better appreciate that some voices are real insistent I say it the right way.”</p><p>Dream feels his mood lift immediately due to hearing from his partners! Even if it’s through Error of all people. That fact can’t at all change how sweet their responses are. It’s just like them. Poor Blue. He’ll have to remember to bake with him when he gets back. He feels warm just thinking of spending more time with them again. He can’t even try to fool himself into thinking that’s due to the castle, he knows he feels like this every single time he gets to do things with them. Especially sweet little domestic things. Stars, he loves them so much. He can already feel Ink’s teasing whenever he can get back.</p><p>“Can you tell Blue I appreciate it. And please tell Ink,  ‘toi aussi’?”</p><p>Error squints at him, for once due to a feeling and not his poor eyesight. “..That better not be some romantic. I’ll find out if it is.” He threatens.</p><p>“Oh it’s not, don’t worry!”</p><p>“And how do I know that for sure?”</p><p>Giggling, Dream just smiles sweetly. “Ink might try something like that. But do you really think I’m the kind of person who would?”</p><p>Error stares at him for a good long few seconds… Then rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I might not even say anything. Maybe if I get super bored or something.” Dream beams. Error rolls his eyes, “Get that look off your face, I said maybe. And it’s a big maybe.”</p><p>“Alright, well thank you if you do! And thank you for giving them my first message too! You’re the best!”</p><p>Turning to leave and making another portal, Error just rolls his eyes again. “Eh, like I said, thank the voices.” He starts to step through it, before pausing and turning to give Dream a smug grin. “And don’t worry, I already know I’m the best.” He chuckles as he heads through, closing it behind him.</p><p>Dream’s alone with his thoughts again. But this time they don’t get so heavy and they don’t overwhelm him.</p><p>First, he knows by now he was wrong about some things of course. He was far too quick to dismiss Nightmare’s group due to their instabilities. Perhaps he’ll never be able to agree with them morally but he wants to at least put in an effort to better know them if he’s going to be stuck here. Second, he has a strong feeling maybe he was taken like this because of what happened in their last battle. Though, he has no way of knowing why kidnapping him would help Nightmare in any way. Or why anything he said would bring him to do this.</p><p>Still. Dream feels reassured. Now his partners know where he is and that he’s okay. It’s only a matter of time before they find a way to break in and free him again. Until then, just knowing they’ll be trying gives him energy to get to work himself. So he’ll do what he’s always done. He’ll try to help the people, even here. Maybe he’ll see a new side of them, or maybe, just maybe, they can start to see a new side to him and what he does. Trying to make them understand his side seems impossible, but it’s worth a shot at least, right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Flashback chapter-- This one also took forever to write and hurt my brain. I think it's okay now. It's way longer than I thought though, I actually had to cut half of what was going to be in this monstrosity.</p><p>Also. Posting this on my birthday. Hell yeah.</p><p>And finally, fun fact! "Tu me manques" basically means 'I miss you'. But is more like 'you are missing from me' in meaning I believe. Which I found honestly way sweeter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In which gardening happens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Resting doesn’t feel right. He’s been resting too much recently and it feels entirely unnatural. Maybe he thought at first that laying to conserve his strength would be a good call for when his partners broke him out of here, though he’s starting to realize that might not be as soon as he thought. Normally Ink can show up nearly anywhere and he’d be out of here already. He feels a little stupid for not realizing that Nightmare would have thought of that. He made a plan to kidnap him for some reason and if he went through all the effort of doing that and reasoning with Error, it’s fair to say that maybe it wasn’t the only thing he asked Error to do. If the timeline has been locked by the glitch, or hidden entirely it will be much, much harder for his friends to get here. Not impossible of course, he believes nothing is impossible for them to overcome. Though it still may take some time.</p>
<p>He’ll start to grow small plants in his hands, just little flowers at first to keep his hands preoccupied with something. Sure, he could wander, but that will just lead to him being followed by Dust, glared at by Horror and avoided by Nightmare. Killer and Error are the only ones who don’t act weird around him, which he was surprised by. Killer’s quite friendly all things considered, though honestly he’s like that on the battlefield as well and he’s fully capable of stabbing someone while being friendly and chatty at the same time. Dream figures he shouldn’t get too comfortable around him yet, especially with Dust’s comment about ‘Killer in a bad mood’, or whatever it was.</p>
<p>The flower pile becomes too great so he starts finding ways to tuck and weave their stems into his hair, getting up and moving everything to the room’s vanity. Of course, being inactive certainly isn’t the only thing bothering him. He’s had a weird feeling in his gut the whole time, even now that everything’s been calm, the feeling is just getting worse and worse. He’s not sure what to do about it, but he is sure of what it is.</p>
<p>It’s the terror of becoming trapped here again. Sure, he knows he’s stuck at the moment but as long as he holds hope that his friends are coming it doesn’t overwhelm him. But the lingering fear is still there. He may not remember most of it, but remaining a statue, trapped in this place for so long didn’t exactly have a good effect on him, that’s for sure. Though that’s not all that makes his body feel weird. No, there’s also something that makes him feel slightly weakened and even a little bit shaky. He finds it easier to space out, just staring at nothing and tiredness in the back of his mind doesn’t leave him. He knows very well what he’s experiencing. He’s hungry.</p>
<p>He begins creating new plants as he runs out of flowers. He wants to try more complicated, perhaps larger ones as clearly the flowers aren’t time consuming enough. Distractions are helpful, it has of course been a few days since he’s eaten now. Maybe even a week, it’s hard to tell when the night never actually turns to day. He may not become hungry as fast as most, but it does still come after a while. And perhaps he can’t die from it as most do, but it still isn’t a pleasant feeling in the slightest. There isn’t all that much he can do about it though. He’s found that Horror seems to have a sixth sense for when someone enters the kitchen as he’s never been able to touch the pantry door, and he especially has never stepped within a foot of the refrigerator. Knowing the other’s background, he isn’t surprised he’s so protective over the food, so Dream has instead just figured he’ll wait it out and try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. He’s done it before, he’ll do it again!</p>
<p>Suddenly the door opens and Dust strolls in. “Whatcha’ up do?”</p>
<p>Dream nearly throws the new green sapling as he jumps in surprise. Maybe he should have locked the door; though it never occurred to him he may have to. “Well, because you didn’t knock now I don’t want to tell you.”</p>
<p>Dust stops in his tracks. He thinks before knocking on the door behind him.</p>
<p>“No that doesn’t count, you already walked in!“</p>
<p>Dust stares at him with mismatched eyes, as if studying his soul as he feels contemplation. After a pause he’ll take a few steps backwards and shut the door with a blank expression. There is then a knock. Dream just stands where he is, not entirely sure what to do. He shakes his head and huffs, though with a smile. It would be a lie to say that some of the gang’s antics and malicious compliance wasn’t a little funny.</p>
<p>“Come in.”</p>
<p>Dust opens the door the same as he did before and walks in, closing it behind him. He leans against it, crossing his arms.</p>
<p>“See, wasn’t that so much nicer?” Dream teases kindly. Dust just rolls his eyes, though Dream doesn’t miss that warm feeling of mischief and amusement.</p>
<p>“I have no idea what the point in that was but can you answer my question now?”</p>
<p>Dream can’t decide whether he should sigh in an endearing manner for the dramatic effect or if he should just laugh. He decides on neither and instead holds up the small green plant. “I’m practicing. It’s too dark and glum around here anyways and your cute plant made me think some more greenery would be nice.” He pointedly does not mention his boredom, nor his attempts to distract himself.</p>
<p>Looking a little embarrassed about the ‘cute plant’ comment, Dust looks away clearing his throat. “I uhh, don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things.” Dream thinks for a moment him of all people saying that is ironic, though he won’t voice this comment.</p>
<p>“What do you mean by practicing though..?”</p>
<p>“Oh!” Dust stares just off his face, next to his head with a blank expression. Ah. Dream assumes his ears have likely perked up. Fantastic. Long, expressive ears, a blessing and a curse. Ink doesn’t even have to be here for him to feel the teasing and light bullying. How does Nightmare manage to not get teased with this bunch around? Then again, he hasn’t been bullied over it yet while here.</p>
<p>“It’s a kind of magic I’ve always had! I don’t usually use it as much though as it isn’t as useful in a fight and I uhh, sometimes forget I even have it. But yeah!” He controls the sapling’s stem to curl around one of his fingers as he next creates another small flower in his hand, starting as a bud and getting larger until it blooms. He grows it until it’s the size of his palm and goes up a ways before he takes it with his other hand.</p>
<p>Dust is quiet and seems contemplative before nodding after a pause. “Interesting.” And without another word, he exits the room, using a shortcut rather than the door he was literally touching.</p>
<p>“Well that was weird…” Dream mumbles to himself. “Oh wow.. Talking to myself. Haven’t done that in a while. Heh… That can only mean good things.” He jokes to himself. He’ll tuck the new flower behind his ear.</p>
<p>He only gets a few moments of peace and silence before running from a heavy-footed individual approaches, fast enough he’s half worried they’ll run right through the door. They do stop though and he hears the huffing and puffing of someone clearly not used to running. He then gets a rough knock at his door. Trying to focus on the other person’s emotions to figure out their intent, he finds they almost seem anxious? Though, their feelings are a little unclear and jumbled. Either they’re running on little to no sleep or they’re running off impulse right now. Dream opens the door and quickly finds the likely answer as Horror stands there, sweating.</p>
<p>“You can make plants.”</p>
<p>Immediately Dream isn’t sure if that’s a question or a statement. “Yeah??”</p>
<p>“Prove it.” Dream begins to notice a few more things. Horror’s never gotten this close before without being openly hostile. He almost feels excited, yet something else still clings to his soul. It’s a negative emotion, a nostalgic desperation? That’s not a combination he comes across very often, though he can recognize it. He doesn’t hesitate before blooming a new flower in his hands.</p>
<p>Horror’s single eye gazes hard at the plant for several seconds. “…Is it edible?”</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s a pansy so I suppose—“ Dream doesn’t manage to finish his sentence before the flower is snatched from his hand and shoved into a pocket.</p>
<p>“Can you make bigger things?”</p>
<p>Dream is starting to get the idea this is about food. Which isn’t at all surprising. “Well, not completely. I can help things a little bigger grow properly but I wouldn’t be able to grow a hedge or a tree, a lot of smaller things is easier than one big—Where are you going?” Seeing Horror start walking away mid-sentence, Dream almost wonders if he only heard half of what he said and left due to thinking it wasn’t possible. Either way, it lets him be alone again.</p>
<p>Though not for long again as the hard knock on his door returns. He’s really popular today apparently? After days of being left mostly alone he’s not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. He opens it again only to find Horror holding seeds out to him. “Grow them.” It’s phrased like a demand, but this time his emotions do give Dream some insight. This is where the anxiety seems to be coming from. He’s not entirely sure why though. Maybe he thinks he’ll refuse?</p>
<p>“I’ll need a pot, some dirt and water.” He and Horror may be enemies but he can’t just turn someone away when they have that desperation and hope in their eyes.</p>
<p>“You can’t just make them big like you did with the flower?”</p>
<p>Dream sighs. “No, unfortunately not. If I took my magic off them like that, they’d probably wither and die immediately. They do need something to sustain them like they normally would if they were on their own.”</p>
<p>Horror nods dutifully and roughly grabs the hand Dream’s still using to hold the door, yanking it closer to himself. For a moment Dream has an irrational fear his arm is about to be cut off, which has happened more than once and it was almost always by Horror’s doing. He’s glad to find that isn’t what he was grabbed for at all. Horror shoves the seeds into his open palm before walking off again.</p>
<p>Dream is… Honestly, incredibly confused to say the very least. He’s starting to regret telling Dust about him being able to grow flowers if he’s somehow going to be pushed into the resident gardener for it. He mostly regrets it because he knows himself and there’s no way he’d refuse doing it if asked.</p>
<p>Horror comes back, seeming determined and having inadvertently planned out Dream’s afternoon. Dream didn’t bother closing the door again, having expected he’d be back. He didn’t quite expect to be grabbed by the arm and dragged out of the room. He tries to keep up to make Horror’s tight grip hurt less. They arrive in a new room. Dream looks around, curiously.</p>
<p>The roof is tall and made entirely of glass panes, with a few beams purposefully crossing under it, lower. Pots and planters are neatly placed along the floor in rows. He sees a watering can, bags of fertilizer and even a trough with a faucet to be filled with water. He looks at Horror. He has all this in here? Has he tried to grow food here before?</p>
<p>Horror catches his gaze and looks away. “…Nothing grows here. I’ve tried a lot. But you made plants that can grow and live here…” he mutters gruffly.</p>
<p>Dream starts to understand, nodding. He knows everything outside the castle withers and he had quickly realized that the plant Dust gave him was a fake one, likely brought in just to add some colour to the room and make it slightly less gloomy. It must not be something that just affects the outside of this castle. Presumably, the whole timeline could be like this. He starts to feel proud of his ability to grow things so easily in here he didn’t notice.</p>
<p>He turns to smiles at Horror. “I’ll see what I can do.” Dream feels bits of hope spark in Horror kept alive by his aura. Just his presence here keeps the castle from being able to dampen it. He feels proud for managing to put that bit of light in someone so lacking in it. And he won’t let it go to waste! He starts immediately.</p>
<p>Rational thought does come in now and then as he starts working with the dirt and Horror to plant and grow seeds, starting with just tomatoes and ending with it, corn, potatoes, strawberries, pepper and a few herbs. That rational thought says this is still his enemy and at any moment he would be jumped and killed. That the only thing stopping them from doing just that was Nightmare telling him not to. But the more hopeful part of him chimes in and questions if maybe they only attacked him to begin with because they were ordered to? It’s a dangerous line of thinking to ponder as it’s a hope that could easily be shattered or used, but he wants to let himself believe that’s the case. Even if it’s just for a little while.</p>
<p>Though through the nearly two hours setting up the garden takes, Dream knows Horror’s catching onto something. He starts staring at him for prolonged periods of time and becomes consumed with his thoughts. Dream notices bits of recognition flaring within him, then darker feelings surface. He doesn’t know what they are exactly as Horror pushes them down just as fast as they rise up. Still he seems to be getting concerned. As Dream finally finishes growing all the seeds until they reach full maturity, or at least the closest they’ll get with just his magic, Horror places a hand on his shoulder. A rather large hand—Dream doesn’t entirely appreciate the reminder of his size, but will ignore it to just look over at Horror instead.</p>
<p>“You’re hungry.” He states gruffly. Dream doesn’t know what to say, squishing his mouth into a line. It’s true. He assumed Horror would have already known that due to not letting him have anything in the kitchen. Horror’s grip tightens as the silence turns to confirmation.</p>
<p>“…Nightmare doesn’t get hungry.”</p>
<p>Dream feels more confused. “He should. I mean, not fast but he still should need to eat. He’s probably just doing it somewhere else?” There are certainly differences in their power now, definitely. But nothing about the apple changed his body’s physical needs and he doubts Nightmare is any different. Horror’s grip tightens again as he thinks about this. “Ow.” Dream sounds. The fabric of his new coat might be cushioning the claws pressed against him but that doesn’t make them any more pleasant.</p>
<p>With a guttural noise that rumbles in Horror’s throat, he’ll grab Dream by the arm and start dragging him elsewhere again. Like last time, he doesn’t resist. Doing so would probably just hurt his arm more. He’s dragged to the kitchen where he is finally let go. Horror trudges over to the fridge and starts riffling through it. The polite side of Dream wants to tell Horror he doesn’t have to, before the rational side stamps that out, demanding that they do actually need food if they stay here for too long. Their immortal body may not be able to die from starvation as it would simply start running off his magic primarily, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t feel the full effects of it.</p>
<p>Horror finally finds what he’s looking for, some sort of leftover meatloaf. He cuts some and heats it up on a plate before setting it on the table with a fork and sitting Dream down in front of it. He sits at the table as well, gaze intense.</p>
<p>Dream isn’t entirely sure he trusts the sort of food the other might give him. He knows a bit about the timeline he came from, and knows enough that some people in that universe have resorted to cannibalism. He has no idea whether Horror actually partook in that as well, but he usually wants to be more safe than sorry. However, from that bit of knowledge about that timeline, he also knows food would still be a big deal to Horror, and that’s been fully apparent. So outright refusing the offer of it would be incredibly rude and, in Dream’s own mind, isn’t an option.</p>
<p>So, even if slightly uncomfortably, he will dig in. Horror’s staring doesn’t help at all as it just makes him self-conscious but it does seem to quell the rising traces of panic that were in the other. He seems closer to content actually. Dream wonders if maybe he had wanted to feed the people of his timeline. It would make sense then why Horror would want to share at all. Maybe that’s why he came to Nightmare? He really hoped his brother wasn’t somehow blackmailing him with food… Maybe he should try to ask about it sometime. If that’s the case, he’s sure there’s something he could do to help!</p>
<p>Still. After he finishes, Horror nods. “Good.” He’ll sit up from the table with a grunt and head over to the door. He pauses there, not looking back at Dream. “…If you touch anything in here tell me. But you also gotta tell me if you’re hungry. Capiche?” Without waiting for an actual response Horror leaves.</p>
<p>…Dream guesses it’s time for him to do dishes. And then grab another thing to eat since he’s now apparently allowed to do that! One piece of meatloaf isn’t enough to fully curb those days of nothing. Then he’ll have to figure out where Horror went to tell him apparently—Why did he have to leave so fast? Maybe he can just leave him a note. Or maybe knocking on the fridge three times summons him!</p>
<p>He tries it as a joke. He’s very disappointed when he figures out it doesn’t work like that. He wonders if making a summoning circle out of forks would do the trick?</p>
<p>He’s been hanging out with Ink too much.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's been perfectly two months since I updated this, jeez-- Sorry dudes. Ran out of motivation for a while then had some commissions to work on-- I've had plenty of ideas though and hopefully I can get to some of them! ^^</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What's this? Me writing something with actual chapters, that isn't a one shot? Utterly unheard of.</p><p>I've already drawn a few things while brainstorming this fic I'll make sure to link them when they become relevant. It's rare I manage to make enough of a multi-chapter thing to actually be confident enough to start posting it, so I have faith in this one. Here comes a ride my dudes. Though trust me, I am also a passenger here.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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